THE PRISONER OF MINDS

This is the narrative of a young girl, young at heart, who walks in paths that others have trodden. Hers is a collection of different paths, shaped by different ambitions and experiences. Before birth, her destiny was decided. And then on a bright sunny day, she made her footing into the world. She was full of color, still is, her cries symbolizing arrival into the human dominated planet.

She is told her journey is hers and she has to embrace it. She’s a collector of what she terms as good, but along the way she has picked up bits and bits of what can be considered not too good. From her experiences, she has learnt. Yet I wonder, Is her life her own? Are her decisions her own? How much influence is enough influence?

You see, from birth, she has had guides. Because of them, she is a construct of their words and directives, and so far so good. But a time has come for her to drop off her mother's hold, like an eagle allowing her eaglet to fly. But gravity has its own thoughts, thus it is a smooth ride down, unless her wings flap to life, a minute away from slapping the hard earth, face down.

There is beauty in discovery, but hers isn’t really a discovery, there already exist a social construct as to how her journey should be. If she fails to oblige, then she’s an outcast and if she does, she gets herself a seat in the social realm. Where is her freedom? Where is her free will; her right to choose to paint her journey on rock, paper, sand or wherever she chooses?

Maybe she doesn’t even realize she is a prisoner of minds. She’s been tangling to the tune all her life.