The Jar

Let's commence a tale. Not the one's young infants hear,  not the one's the adults aspired. An elementary tale of a periodic object. An inanimate being which can portray a life, by drawing out paradigms from it. 

A Glass Jar.

Upon it's influx to the world, the jar never knew, the complexity of the contemporary beings, the conundrums of the mind, the swiftness of time and the crisis of a hefty life.

Yet the intellect was sharp enough to edify the prodigy to set a target and exist as the solitary identity provided. 

The jar, an elephantine and a spacious jar,began his life on the terms of dictatorship, embracing what others feel, filling in everyone's expectation, needs and obviously leaving a considerable capacity vacant to allow his thoughts to flow via that space. For the coming years, he graciously accepted every minute particle of emotion, expectation and the ups and downs of a physical soul. They inducted, they established but they never escaped.

Embarking a certain point in his cycle of existence, he actualized that he is now half full, now he knows what people want out of him and now the filling would stop, so for once he made an attempt to venture upon that vacated area also known as a personal space of mind. Looking deep inside himself, he tried to locate the that space, crossing valleys of expectations, rivers of happiness, mountains of emotions, embarking on this one journey that would really mean a lot to him, the journey will allow him to read what he actually wants after knowing the innumerable things lying beneath him. But wait! Where is it? Has it disappeared or just hiding somewhere unfathomable where no one has ever been? With an optimistic approach he thought why not search it, why not look for it? 

With passages of time fleeting and personal space still missing, the jar still reflected yet little he knew that the filling had not halted. The filling continued and continued non stop but living in the trance of frisking his deserving and limited zone he forgot that he needs to stop the inflow of access of stuff from burdening and clogging up the remaining spaces. To escape the thoughts he endeavored upon he gave himself a light push, to get him back to his senses to push him back to reality. But he realized there was no escape he was caught in this landslide of life. Yet all it took was a slap! 

SMAAASH

Welcome to the reality. The jar resumed his life again. Failing one of his motives to find his inner conscience, he invited more trouble to himself. He allowed more crap to get filled, reaching a certain limit where either the jar had to crack or others thoughts and expectation. Little he knew that sometimes cracking up others can be the escape, Yet sacrificing his own soul he cracked up, letting everything lose, every dirt, every matter, every life, every space. He never knew that allowing others to establish inside himself, he had lost a certain part of himself to others thoughts, restricting it forever. 

All he could do now was watch how other jars filled up and lived on while he stood there, wondering where he had gone wrong.

 

Everyone existing can relate to a glass jar. Yet how You fill yourself really matters. Allowing others to live inside can be good but after a certain point, everything cracks. .Missing is the sure mind. It bends to whomsoever it wishes. It is now the multiple of them living in the solitary figurine

"Ring the bells that can still ring. Forget Your Perfect offering. There's a crack in everything that's how Light gets in."