There's still sand on my shoes..

There’s still sand on my shoes and I don’t want to dust it off.

They aren’t fine granules of silica as most of ya’ll see it. They’re memories of togetherness, drunken times, dim orange lights, soft instrumental living room music, times when I had to be shaken out of my thoughts; that are hidden between my toes. It’s like taking home these good times that have added magnificence to life. 

The sand is a vast oversized bed which guarantees peaceful sleep without a pillow. It probably soaks in my worries, fears and negativities as I lay on it. Those thoughts about conquering the world or uncertainties of life are sucked up and every time I get up, I’m a content, light hearted, transformed person. 

I’m either too quiet or too ecstatic on the sand. Mostly quiet, no ecstatic, no quiet. It’s a world of my own where I can be what I want to be. There are no boundaries, no one to watch, no one to direct. I can control the compass or be my own anchor. I can be in love with myself, think I can fly, roll over in the sand, scream my lungs out and the sand just quietly takes it all. It’s a listener, can make you a dreamer and can be your best friend.

As I come back to the hustle bustle of the city life, the mad rush, witness almost-a-stampede to be one step ahead of the other, concrete jungles everywhere, I look at my shoes and see the sand that has calmly nestled itself in the sole of my footwear and probably, my soul as well.

So, there’s still sand on my shoes and I don’t want to dust it off.