The last arrow in the quiver goes
away. This arrow was hidden. Even though
I knew, it was safely tucked somewhere. However hard I tried to look for it, it
couldn’t be found. Somehow, the arrow
eluded me. But I was certain, the day would come and when this arrow would be
discovered. And I kept waiting for it. Even
though the quiver was empty, I didn’t throw it away in anticipation of the last
one. The quiver was constantly on my back all the while. It had become a
baggage, rather. I had often dreamt of it only to wake up finding it empty. I
needed the last arrow badly to try one last shot. All the previous arrows had
missed the bull’s eye. My hope solely rested on the last one. As time passed, I
became more and more convinced that this one would be the saviour. This one
would finish up the pending work.
And the time came, the arrow
suddenly appeared. It looked silent and innocuous as if it was in the quiver
all the time. But I can swear, I hadn’t seen or felt it before. It was mocking
at me. But, this was not a time to blame. I had to take my last try. With
trembling hands, I straightened the bow, put on the arrow and tightened the
string.
Looking at the arrow, I asked myself.
What if, this also misses the point? The arrow, which was missing all this time
would again vanish in a moment. Why not just keep the arrow and avoid facing
the truth? Atleast, the last hope wouldn’t die. Why did the arrow make me wait
just to disappear again and this time never to return?
I closed my eyes. Perhaps, it wasn’t
meant to be. Every arrow is different
and every arrow has its own course. Every arrow has its own target and is
different from the target we choose for them. The path laid for them has to be
traversed by the arrow alone. Perhaps, it was time to let the arrow go and dump
the quiver. I would feel lighter. The quiver started feeling heavier. I couldn’t
bear it.
I opened my eyes. The world looked
different. It was all new. Encouraged, I took the aim and shot the arrow.
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