We all have it.
When I look at faces, I try to find it in them. And I know. They have it too.
Two of themselves in the same body. The two forms which appear and disappear, taking chances.
One, which is a shattered piece with all the sharp edges. Another the polished, smooth one.
One, which triggers through you, even in a happy moment, salty tears and bad memories. Another, which makes you wipe your wet face and cheer up again.
One has seen that the world is not all happiness, not all chocolates and candies. The another has faith, that it is still not all bitterness and has learnt to savour the smallest of good.
One’s a pecimist but it’s not at fault because it has seen the scorn of the world. The other knows that it has to smile and believes.
One which has to bear all the nightmares and the other which creates daydreams.
One, which is your companion in solitude. And one which you absorb when you join the world’s fair.
I have seen it in smiling faces with sad eyes, both the forms together.
I have seen it when she threw things across the room in agony of the distrust of her loved one. And when she left the house only to prove herself to everyone.
I have seen it when he hated the world for making him miserable. But then he he helped strangers because he felt he needed to.
But both of them are vital, important. One to make you see the reality, the other to make you see what more and what better can be.
When one says “I am tired, I am distraught”. The other says, “You will be alright, the good is yet to come.”