We are all a little egg. An egg full of hope, life, confidence, courage, the one that witnesses the abysmal power inside that thin white shell. An egg that is bound to give life in one form or the other. An egg that holds the soul of its originator, God’s.
An egg’s destiny is a result of one of the two actions. Somebody either takes the egg and for their use, they break the shell, hitting it with a spoon or smashing it on the surface, the thin shell, in its infancy that holds a spirited life inside shows only a little resistance. The problem is the external force somehow always exceeds the intrinsic resistance. The egg breaks, the life is gone. But now it feeds the other life, keeping its essence and meaning.
Or the otherwise would be, the egg would be left to it make its own destiny. The life is inside the shell, it derives the energy to develop its body parts from the yolk. Gradually from eyes to the heart to wings, it doesn’t happen in a day, the life takes its time and becomes a chick. The final examination of the chick is to break the egg from the inside. Nobody teaches him to do so in the shell, it is on its own. The chick puts all its power trying to explode, the power that made it into a chick is the power that shall give him a life in the world. With its small teeth, it fractures the shell, trying to make a crack. It finally makes it, cracks the egg and makes space and comes out. Tired but happy to have made it on its own.
Aren’t we all such eggs. We either do something that is imposed on us or do what our inclinations choose. The first option is for the people who either fail to recognise their inner calls, or are in no position to take their life-decisions, whose life is a mortgage and the mortgagees are his blood relatives.
The other ones, who crack the egg gradually. The rebels- people choose to call them lucky. Rebelious or Lucky, it doesn’t matter, they do make it on their own in the end. Nobody cares what it takes to crack the shell- the patience, the diligence, the persistence, the perseverance. People call them lucky blatantly. The Appreciators are rare, the Critics are all. The Chick finally survives the world with the magic of life in it.
Omelette or Life? You be your own Sailor because it’s your ship.