PitchBlue

An iceberg’s essence is invisible to surface-wandering eyes.

Not attached to anything; it is as free as one can ever be.

It is magnificent in its entirety.

You know, I used to be one of those.

Yes, I was that free, that majestic, that mighty.

There was this inner contentment, and a little bit of pride.

Then, suddenly, the sky turned grey.

Dark ominous clouds started hovering over my head.

There were tears mixed up in the wind.

And I could hear fear laden voices coming towards me from faraway streams.

Before I knew it, I was shoved to a series of cruel rocks, and the rocks to me.

I also got cuts by the thrashing whip of acid-water pouring down on me.

Trust me, I hadn’t given up even then.

But moments later, a fallen tree carried by the tempest passed right throw me.

When I have stopped  the biggest of the submarines, how dare a tree! Right?

Well, I was no longer “me”.

I had melted down.

It took me a storm to realize that before anything else, an iceberg’s just a part of the sea.