I found my watercolors after a really long time. It reminded me of the time when I loved to color, now the colors had dried up like a piece of dry land. A dry land, a dry zeal. When did I forget to be the kid who would randomly fill pages with colors and wait for my proud mother to boost my talent? I guess I didn’t lose the talent, I just buried the watercolors under the weight of running life’s race. A race that I have no clue when I participated in. A race that was tiring because I was leaving behind my enthusiasm. Why was I running? I asked myself. Where was I headed? I thought to myself. I stopped midway, not just thinking but stopped running for a bit. I sat down, fixed my watercolors. I opened a blank page and started coloring. My mother peeked in my room to see me smile. I smiled back at her and opened my pandora’s box of thoughts. I realized I can start and stop whenever I want to. ...