A Tale of Corners

A Tale of corners

The room juxtaposed a dark and a lit corner. A gleam of sunlight made its way through the half-open window stealthily. Some shackles seemed to have broken. They kissed one corner of this room, as if a mother had met her son after long. The sun glinted on the other half of the window. Like a father wanting his other son to do as well, it tried to pierce the half-window to let its rays in. But the rays waited at the window every day until the dusk set in. 

It had always been like this.  The dark corner had always been dark. The lit one always lit. A whiff of arrogance drifted from one corner to other. The gloomy brother had not come to terms with its life. It was difficult to do so. Very difficult. 

It is easier to live in misery. But it is difficult living in misery with a blissful person. All the things you lack are at other’s disposal, making you feel more vulnerable and wretched. You watch all the happiness you want so closely but it belongs to someone else. So close and yet so far.

The dark corner was living on a hope. A hope that on some propitious day, the wind 

would shove the other half of window and the sunlight would never be biased again. It would be as fortunate as its brother corner. A thirst that has kept it parched for years, will be quenched. 

The thought kept it sad and wishful. Its days went by in anticipation. It protected a 

dream. A dream it believed would change its identity. It won’t anymore be a dark 

corner. But all things are not meant to end the way they sound good. That day never 

was in script. One fateful day, a gigantic bulldozer razed the building. Razed the room and its corners. The wreckage lay scattered, much like the dreams of the dark corner. 

Succumbed to its fate, the rubble lay submitted. Perhaps, the dream it saw should not 

have been harbored. It should have accepted the way things were scripted. It would 

have lived sans the sunlight but happy and content. Content - that not all corners get 

the heavenly kiss of sun. Content-that not all corners can be lit. But it lived on a dream, at the whim of hope. The hope crashed, so did the dream. 

Next morning, the sun lit the spot brightly on the debris. The spot that till yesterday belonged to the dark corner…