Allow Ann to Babble, Please!

Beaches have always been a favourite of mine. It's almost like the sea calls my name, beckoning me to embrace its folds. To throw myself into the waters and have no care in the world is something too special to me. Because when I'm neck-deep in there, I'm nothing. My weight against the force of the waves becomes irrelevant. And I'm not just speaking of the weight of my body but of my heart too. In fact, I think my heart is far more heavy than my body ever will be. After all, it is a museum of everything I have loved and lost and loved again. And the artefacts within it weigh down on me- it makes me slump my shoulders and drag my feet while I should be floating around with ease. It makes even the easiest tasks undoable. But the moment I step into the water, I'm free of it all. Maybe it is an inherent nature of mine- to dive into something that is ragingly unpredictable. But rage is so dear to me. Unpredictability is so dear to me. It's something I've grown up...

Mundane things bore people. It bores me. When something becomes a part of my schedule, I lose my enthusiasm for it. That's how I stopped posting here. Because I couldn't keep up the quality of my content every single day as I grew more and more uninterested. But then today, I attended an event. A programme organised by the Indian Medical Association to educate the common folk about basic first-aid treatments. During this programme, the doctor explaining it all to us mentioned a fact that I had heard once and not given much thought to. But it stuck with me today. It stuck like gum on shoe soles. It refused to leave my head even as I walked out of that hall. When the oxygen supply to the brain is cut off, your body will start to shut down in five minutes. Within the next ten to fifteen minutes, you will be rendered a corpse if you're not given proper medical attention.  And I sat there thinking- fifteen minutes . It is the time I take to drag myself off the bed and into the w...