Tell her a story.

Tell her a story. Tell her a story so that she can believe a little more; in herself, in you, in the world, in humanity.

She has it all, yet her eyes lie vacant, hunting for freedom. Let her find her wings and nest in the open skies. Tell her of the glories of seeing the world through her own eyes, so that she may find her salvation. Tell her, of the wonderful magic that lies hidden between the stars which hold centuries of stories in their heart, just like the depths of her heart.

Tell her, of the beauty of falling leaves in autumn, the wonder in your eyes at the sight of fresh snow, dangerous courage inducing blooms in spring and the nonchalance of wild summers. Make sure she knows that she is the sweet drizzle to your summer, the warm fire to your winter.

Tell her of the days full of yearning and nights full of sighs and pauses while you write and rewrite your story; of things you wished you did better and things you did not say for the fear of ruining everything, and of the chances you did not take because trust is an emotion that induces more doubt than confidence in the grand scheme of things. It is among the many human fallacies to be too focussed on the smaller schemes.

Tell her painful truths. Tell her that despite her vulnerabilities, despite her weaknesses, despite the cracks in her being, she is beautiful. Not perfect, not flawless. But real. Unlike the mannequin she pretends to be through the day, but like the little girl looking across the skies in awe of the moon every single night.

Tell her, that despite what she may believe, she will be your favorite piece of poetry. Because, all of us need a little saving now and then.


Picture courtesy: Priyank Dedhia


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