I found the mid-piece today. As I picked it from the trash piled up from the drawer, it hits me that how curious I was once to fix all these pieces together whenever I got a new puzzle. I would wait for hours to frame the big picture these little bits held.
My mind felt at ease and I would wait for another batch to be framed. My curiousity lead me to a few encounters where I didn’t want to put things at their destined places, I wanted to fetch new places and order. That’s when I learnt that all the trials were in vain because it was meant to pull out one outcome.
Now when I go through those left over bits I realise that back then I had a choice to fit things as and when I wanted. But I can’t even figure out the pieces anymore. I don’t know if they’d fit the desired place or they would just sit at the edge. The cuts and shapes have now clouded my skills. I always thought, if the outer pieces are sidelined, it forms a new image, it gives a new angle. But what if I lost this mid piece?
My puzzle would never be complete!
But holding this piece today, I feel it’s of no worth anymore.
Each piece values more than the first one because that’s what enhances the picture. That’s how the story is built.
Each piece holds a different theory, intact in those outlines it shares. You just don’t know which one falls out first.
But even today, my curiousity hasn’t faded. I would still come up with new fixtures that serve their purpose and soothe my mind until it begins to shed like a rose which never looses it’s identity, till the last petal falls.