Empty Plate...

Sitting by the window of my bedroom on a cool Friday evening with a cup of tea and cookies, I was mesmerised by the cool weather and the taste of the tea. It’s a wonderful spring evening, with fresh cool air and joyful green trees and spongy lawns. The choc chip cookies were so lovely and even lovelier is the plate on which its kept on my table. its a whitish plate with red polka dotted design and the dark

brown cookies make the plate look even lovelier.

That thought of cookies making the plate look lovelier made me to yearn of a soul’s company. I thought perhaps my life is very beautiful, just like the porcelain plate.

But I don’t really appreciate its beauty because I don’t have the right cookies (people) in it. My life plate is of a unique design unlike none and its big enough to accomodate anyone. I still couldn’t figure out why there were no cookies in it.

Then I started to recollect as when and how I purchased my red polka dotted porcelain plate.I remember, I was shopping for a winter jacket at a retailer. I was browsing around when this plate caught my eye. It looked so elegant and simple and yet powerful enough to hold my gaze. I checked it out and was wondering if I could actually keep this lovely plate without breaking it or scratching it. Then I bought the plate thinking that I will not use the plate for anything, but just keep it in the cupboard as a decoration.

Time passed and the sight of the lovely plate became so ordinary and I no longer bothered to even look at it. It got dusty and pale. Then one fine day, when I was chucking out all the old and broken stuffs out of the house (and also my life), I remembered about the plate and took it out of the cupboard. I dusted it and gave it a nice wash and dried it. It began to shine again.

After few weeks, I finally used the plate for the first time, to have the cookies while drinking tea. The plate looked beautiful with the cookies. The cookies tasted even better from that plate.

When I finished eating the cookies, I noticed there were few scratches on the plate.

But when I used the plate another time to have cookies, it again looked marvellous, although it had few scratches. It looked better than when it was new and unused.

I thought my life is more like the plate. I was afraid to let people into my life, fearing that they may scratch, break or wear it down. My life plate is shiny and big, but it’s empty and felt dull. Cookies will scratch or stain the plate, but a plate with cookies is more beautiful than an empty golden plate.

My heart is now open for any one to enter my life. I want my plate to be with cookies and the scratches and stains they leave behind. I want people to decorate my life plate and make it beautiful and make me realise its beauty.

I am open; you can enter without knocking....