I received another departing mail from one of my colleagues.
It is not that, I am writing because it had something unexpected. In fact, it spur me because it contained the usual banalities of how great the environment has been, how much I have to learn and how apologetic do I look when making this parting shot easier on myself.
I haven’t taken to this journey yet but a good deal of pleasure may come from thinking about it. I have been thinking about my goodwill mail, silk worms and machines.
I am not sure, why silk worms would come to me at this juncture and I was hoping that it will all clear itself in due time.
Oh, I digress. Let me write my “Good bye mail”.
We all started on the journey with a dream, a dream of becoming a butterfly. Every silk worm requires a cocoon in which it could transform itself into a butterfly, un-observed and unhindered.
A cocoon has no life but a promise of butterfly with a silk worm inside. I liken it to lubricants that oil the machine for it to deliver it’s promise.
While, I was lumbering and dreaming on stretching my wings, I felt a slow growing discomfort around my neck and my dreams changed. It was a small niggle when it started and I had learnt to live with it, but it grew with time.
Ah! My dreams, it took a sour turn. I was the cocoon and not the silk worm any more. I was not sure, why a slight discomfort would make me a cocoon and not the silk worm with a promise. I am not sure even today.
Cocoon is just a empty shell without the creative promise that dwells in it. Why has cocoon replaced the silkworm? When did it become so important? How does one get to choose to be a silk worm or the cocoon? Does the silk worm has a say?
And then, no further thoughts registered.
All I can infer is that, at that time, I was deep asleep. The letter remains uncompleted.
But, I think it would be rude, If I did not sign it.
The promising silkworm.