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The Stagnation is Killing Her.

She gets up from her bed. It is time for college, and important to attend. She is awake now. The cup of tea, she just had, has done its work. She sometimes wishes, she lived on the ground floor. For somebody as lazy as she is, climbing down stairs, coming from the fourth to the ground floor, is quite a task. But climb down, she has to. She walks down the stairs in anticipation, but the movement fills her with a strange thrill. What this thrill means, she does not know. She keeps moving. Moving down consistently, she reaches the door. The hinges are rusted, the door takes long to open. The thrill vanishes, overtaken by a sense of fear. She feels death is near. The door opens at last. She takes a long breath with a sigh of relief. The movement resumes. The thrill begins to come back to place. She moves towards the rickshaw stand. Moving, and then moving a little more, she reaches the rickshaw stand. Soon after she reaches, she finds a vacant rickshaw. For the impatience she has come to embody with the coming over of youth, she feels delighted that she does not have to wait. She climbs the rickshaw and asks the rider to move. But the rickshaw does not move. It is a four seater and needs three more passengers. Her heart sinks. This time, waiting with impatience is not what she means. The stagnation of that which has wheels is killing her. She sees death approaching, running towards her with a great stride. The thrill has vanished completely. The feeling of death coming closer with each passing moment, has encapsulated her. Her heart is sinking. He spirits are drowning. She wants to move. Slower than ever, but movement is what she means. The stagnation is killing her.

The stagnation is killing her.

She sees death approaching.

Her heart is sinking.

The stagnation is killing her.

And then the rickshaw moves. She feels a new life being blown into her lungs. The faster it moves, with a greater force the thrill is pulled back. Her spirits are rising. She feels satisfied.

In common phraseology, life is a journey. To keep moving on this road, is what is meant to be. The end of this road may mean death. But the idea is to keep moving.

To keep moving ahead was her idea of living life to the fullest. Falling in the way did not matter, for she’d get up and begin again with a greater stride. But stopping made all the difference. She did not want to stagnate.

The attitude one has towards life is what makes the difference. People come, people go. Happiness comes your way and soon enough sadness overpowers it, and soon again happiness is meant to be. The cycle keeps going on. Life is made up of ups and downs. To take it all with a pinch of salt is what we all need. What is important is to keep moving. Stagnation of thoughts, stagnation of goals to look forward to, may bring metaphorical if not literal death. Good and bad shall continue to happen throughout, but to keep moving in the face of it all, is what life is made up of.

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