It takes courage to follow your passion, but once you start there is no way anyone can stop you. everyone's passion carries something very meaningful that none can express. when I was a kid, I thought it was just a hobby, but later when I turned teen I realized it was my passion. and my adulthood aspired me to make it a profession. Like the doctor that wears a stethoscope around the neck to check the heartbeat of the sick, I hung my camera to keep my heartbeat sane. Captured every tiny moment to make it feel priceless, trekked hours through the bumpy roads to click the most mesmerizing view, stood under the flaming sun, and walked on all the empty forts. "These are the finest capture from my previous trip" I exclaimed while viewing them from my big screen. Preparing myself enough for the upcoming magazine publication event. Years and years of hard work, numerous self-doubts, and the nervousness of traveling independently. The absolute purpose behind the work was to get acknowledged by the publication. But do things go according to our acknowledgment? definitely a big NO from my side. Things went exactly how I didn't want them to. Years of hard work, sleepless nights, and the amount of time invested in this particular project were in vain. What vandalized my heart was the dream; that gave me a thousand butterflies in one go. The dream gave me a reason to hold the camera and see life through the lens. Today, it makes me feel awful. I stood almost lost in the most crowded road of the busy city failing at literally everything. questioning my existence, doubting my so-called passion, and controlling the tears that were threatening me. " NO! NO! I can't cry here not now, I promise I will let you flow free when I reach home", I convinced myself. The heavy clouds roared making everyone flinch hard. That's it! even before the clouds would let its tear touch the earth, my tears ran like a river through my cheeks. I kneeled on the rainy street, pitying and degrading myself. I picked up all my lost hope and returned home.
I gently placed my camera on my desk with a pale smile, glancing at the polaroid pictures which were hanging on my wall; entitled my "BEST CAPTURES". A faint smile left my lips. It is easy to say- Never give up on passion! but what about the night that questioned your purpose, how to answer it? The pillow which was drenched in tears and the heart that yelled every time you failed. The self-doubt and the fear of being found yourself once again in the dark hugging your knee over your chest. The scar that never leaves and ends up causing great pain. It doesn't matter how many times you have been thrown on the stage to receive the marvelous award. but it only takes one failure to bring you back to the pit of ruination. The morning sunbeam enters softly through window glasses, peeping through my curtain, distracting my pleasing sleep. I took deep a breath and stood near the balcony with a dry throat and swollen eyes. The sky that roared last night and screamed through the thunder was now all fine and charming, radiating a powerful comeback. The birds that fly with joy under the blue sky, the tree that still got it yesterday dewdrop. Yes! Nothing changes overnight! but that doesn't mean it has to ruin the morning's beauty. "CRAZY, MORNING," I said with a little smile tugging over my face. Like the night that didn't stop raining, and like the morning that didn't forget to come back more potent than ever. I grabbed my camera with hope and passion for another adventure; the adventure of capturing moments. I desired to start everything where I lost. I wanted to set my tripod on the rough crooked path and wanted to see the sight through my lens. Even if I fail, I want to raise stronger because not all success stories have a straight path, do they? The motive was to have a purpose for my passion, not the trophy either the medals or fame. all I urged for is to capture the emotion of people, the moment, the smile that one wears on this lip as they see the photograph, and the joy I receive looking at how others get mesmerized by the image. the nostalgic remember that fetches through the snap; that was the purpose of my passion. Every passion carries a purpose, some may find it in the early stage, and few may find the way too late.
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