Ripple of change
It was there, clinging on to the edge of the leaf and was about to fall, fall into the little puddle of water below… the droplet.
Yes, the droplet was ready to give up and surrender its existence to the little puddle below but something made it cling on, a little longer; perhaps a desire to stay that fraction of a second more in the company of the green leaf, the same green leaf that held it, nurtured it and was now ready to offer it to the little society of droplets underneath.
What was it? Just a droplet! Where did I come from? No one knows. Perhaps a fog, a dew, an overnight drizzle perhaps from nowhere but it was now here. It existed and existed with a distinct identity, an identity that was now to be submerged into the flow of millions — to be lost.
Reluctantly, the droplet left the shelter of the leaf. All the time it went down, it pointed towards its once safe, soft and sure shelter. And then with a little ‘whimp’ it dropped into the puddle.
Don’t know what strength the droplet had in its heart or what amount of agony or what purpose it set itself to make it so heavy.
As it fell, it created a huge ripple all around it. Yes, it was the sign of revolution. It said that it was here to make changes, to transform the society of droplets into the way it learnt intuitively from the soul of the world, to live with a distinct identity.
But, something else happened. The ripple it sent around gradually died out and with time, silently the pool of droplets engulfed it. And its existence was lost.
But yes, the water in the puddle never remained the same again because the droplet fell, the ripple was created, the mud was churned, and the colour of the society of droplets changed forever.
One may be a droplet in the ocean of people but it requires only one, to churn what lies within
us, to change the course of destiny.