While I was searching for an apt title to baptise my very own blog for the day, due care was taken to select one; but none did the justice as much as my sister’s derelict blog’s name did. Butterflies on Blackberry, one could see it as contradicting, others could see it as a symbiotic and I see it as the dynamic principle of existence ~ The Survival. Hitherto it was mystic, impede and deranged not getting a precision over what it takes to be a butterfly on a blackberry or being a blackberry or being just a butterfly or being none. The state of being a marionette is something which we have always been going through. A truth which we tend to deny but accept it with the denial.
Unwittingly we are cognizant about ourselves, our desires, our quest, our thirst and our dreams which takes us through the terra incognita. Circumventing and returning to the portals of destiny is what that makes or breaks a person. In today’s competitive world one needs to have profusion of positive energy to survive in this pedantic world. Nomenclatures do exists in strata of life like a jigsaw puzzle which with justice and usage of science of mind can perish these postulates. As the existence of excitement leads to exploration of an adventure, we try to explore being in the women hood taking up responsibilities to leverage from one stage to another like a panama canal. Engrossed in the arsenal of unconscious mind lies the conscious truth of ignorance. Relentlessly going through arduous actions making up to the career ladder had almost left all the butterflies a dragon! Making them forget about their heat was once generated to give the push for them to come from the womb and today the same heat is generated to burn all existence around. Once the serenity which was admired by others is today her’s sanitarium! Once the invariant ability to fragment the relationships is today her indictment! Once the golden age of Greece is today whistling while the Rome is burning. Repression and supposition has never recourse the virtue of being the she who she is.
Neither tomes nor tantrums can resolve the tangle which she is postulated around herself. The frontier should be pondered and cleared within herself to be a butterfly without burning her wings! she is one who has been there as an existence of mass for eon. She is not the one to be considered as woe but to be considered as the consecrated. She denies the echelon not because she is scared of but she is sacred of. She flies with her own colors of life making her beautiful, sensitive and blissful either to be admired in the axioms or as just a mere wall paper as long as she is admired she remains a butterfly on the blackberry!