We have all heard the saying - ' Every ending is a new beginning '.
But, have you ever wondered ' Is every new beginning really an end?'
Does the ocean end at the shore, or do seashells carry it in their roaring echoes, like a map navigating their hearts home?
Do our stories end when we become stars or do we strive to be part of greater constellations?


Moreover, what exactly do you mean by an ' ending '?
Is it when something ceases to exist, or is it just a whisper in a windstorm of transformation? Inanimate objects can end, but can abstract thoughts? Can any creative thought actually be 'inside the box' and if yes who decides where this hypothetical 'box' ends?

We are made to dream of 'Forevers' and suddenly everything is punctuated with three little words-
'HAPPILY EVER AFTER'.

Would a black and white film be happier if filled with color?
Our lives are filled with imperfect puzzle pieces. But we must always remember that broken vases can still carry beautiful flowers.

And why do we keep searching for beginnings in endings? It is like searching for the moon at every sunset. The sky doesn't cry for its beloved moon, nor do wolves wish for umbrellas of moonshine on stormy nights.
Do beginnings give purpose to life? Or maybe hope… of a happier ending? Is this why humans are afraid of endings? Or is it time that scares us?

When I started writing this piece I had an amazing beginning, but for the end I had no design . In fact when I put this pen down, is it even the end of this muse of mine?