Flying like a cloud.

Well the clouds in the front, they make me jealous, they like challenge me to fly. And the clouds in the back that are dense and big and white, they scare me, a lot. They are like old people who tell you “No that can’t be done” or “how dare you do something like that?” They are the ones who follow customs, having lost the actual meaning of custom with time. They like take up their places higher in the sky and just stay there while watching other clouds just flying underneath looking for themselves a space to settle. They must also laugh, at the little-fools-of-all-the-clouds who look like don’t belong to any community or even if they did they left or were thrown out. These little-fools-of-all-the-clouds just hang around all the time, without anything appropriate to actually do with all that infinity of a sky or potential.
Now, if we see how these things fly around. Well there are these packs. Like the clouds of summer, travelling somewhere, none leaves the others and they do what everyone else does or how they are told to. These are the clouds the big white clouds are proud of. These pack-clouds become the big white cloud in the future and will guide the future cloud society. They think why should clouds like little-fools-of-the-clouds even exist? So one day a pack of clouds, dressed in its youth and arrogance of their superiority thought of ruining the little ones to their in-existence. They thundered. They thundered so much together that the little ones got scared. They cannot fight against the strong powerful wind of the society. They didn’t know what to do. They started precipitating. No, they didn’t want to. It would kill them. Maybe that is exactly what the big white clouds dreamt of and taught to the packs. So these little-fools-of-all-the-clouds came together and attached themselves for some time, they bonded so great, with the help of their own precipitation, that they slowly came to the side while the pack kept on thundering from above submerged in the milk of the big whites. What the packs didn’t realise is that the little ones had gone to the sides. They were no more the victim of the thundering. They had used their brains to come together in the time of need and gone. They didn’t run away. See that’s the thing about brains, they tell you exactly what to do. And who could have thought God will give brains to Clouds? Of all these elements on earth, it is the clouds who will get the brains. The little ones knew that the packs had gone so blind; they wouldn’t notice that the little ones had left and out of the filthy richness of their anger they surely won’t. So the packs kept on thundering and went so far that they precipitated themselves. They precipitated so much that they almost killed themselves. Suddenly they stopped and looked around. The little ones were on the far side, now separating their bonds with respect. They didn’t know what they were doing anymore. The pack now realised how big of all the fools they really were. It’s not about how the cloud society should be, it’s about how the big white clouds want it to be. The big whites used the packs and the packs were now angry.  

The pack truly understood what the meaning of being a Cloud is. Being a cloud means to live. To fly around where ever the cloud wants to fly, without being guided by the big-whites. And no the little-fools-of-all-the-clouds are not useless. They have an entity of their own and of all the clouds they were not at all fools. For they knew, exactly, what being a cloud meant. They lived with freedom, doing what they wanted to do, or dreamt of doing. They belonged to nowhere in particular but, everywhere. The complete sky was their abode. They were the ones who actually realised their potential. They came together in need. They supported and respected each other. After all they knew how long does a cloud live, or rather how short.

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