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  • Writer's pictureAnanya Sampath

An Unending Journey

I sat amongst the million blades of grass, knowing that inevitably, the time would come for me to head back home. I could feel the crisp breeze, bringing about a tingling sensation on my skin. The varying blues of the sky blended harmoniously, somewhat like a tapestry. I continued staring at the unending horizon, the so- called ‘vanishing point’, where the sky seemed to merge with the ground.


With the distant song of a bird as my starting guide I broke into a sprint, keeping my target the ‘vanishing point’, and continued for a few yards. Quite abruptly, a curtain of mist enveloped me. I felt suffocated, and began gasping for breath. My unsettlement during this encounter prevented me from recalling the amount of time I spent trapped there. I realized that the mist was going to last a while, and out of pure instinct I sprinted aimlessly in one direction, hoping to outrun the mist.

At last, I reached a whole new landscape where countless sand dunes were stretched out perpetually. I was painstakingly aware of the burning heat of the sun scorching my skin. I silently applauded myself for my choice of footwear. Dumbfounded by the new surroundings, and with numbed senses after the previous contrasting encounter, I stood still for many moments, before coming up with a foolproof plan, as tested before.


The routine began to set, and so did my dizziness and thirst. I would be lying if I said that I ran. I tried to walk, and persevered for a while, then staggered until my legs could no longer bear the fatigue. I gave in to the sand, and sat (read: fell) cross- legged. Apparently, I had picked the exact spot that seemed to appear solid, but actually wasn’t. In my half- unconscious state, I was unsurprisingly late to notice the fact that I was steadily sinking into the not- so- solid sand.


I struggled and writhed in the sand desperately reaching upwards and kicking fruitlessly into the sand. And all this in vain. Maybe there wasn’t any point in fighting, maybe I should give in. And I stopped moving, and stayed embedded in the sand, in an eerie but calm manner. For time unknown I lay still, sinking into the depths of the sand, I was quite unconscious by this time, and probably thought myself dead.

Except I actually wasn’t.

At some point of time, I was transported back to the same place I started. I grasped the flaw in my “foolproof” plan. Instead of facing each situation head- on, I ran-- away from all problems, to each new one, and when the time came for the unstoppable one, there wasn’t any other route to take.

And I sat amongst the million blades of grass, knowing that inevitably, the time would come for me to head back home.

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