Literary theory has always been a terrain, unexplored for me, the more I want to know about it, the more secrets it reveals to me. Many strands of theory and theoretical discourses often make me think and ponder about so many facets of a single idea, or view. We have so many glasses on our eyes, and I think theory gives us a freedom to choose any one of the glasses, and thereby allow us to give our views and opinions. Truly, it is having the power to make us realise the timelessness of a work of art. As many angles, as many interpretations. We are free enough to choose more than one glass for our eyes to make us believe on various ideologies and interpretations at a single moment of time. Reading a text is the first step towards analysis, the second reading gives us an insight, and how a text is unfolding itself starts appearing to us on our mental horizon, a brief knowledge of theories, help us to locate the text on that level, which seems perfect to us. Theory gives us a freedom, to interpret. We don’t need any yardstick to prove our point, a singular text can have infinite observations, by a singular reader, and it also gives us a choice to stick to one or more than one ideas at the same time. The world of theories is unique in itself, it’s a path where one can tread for as long as one wants, no barriers are there, a freedom of spirit, to articulate and express oneself, as the way one wants.

So simple and delicate it was, fresh as the first ray of the morning and so beautiful that no image in the world can be compared to it. I was thrilled to have it in my bare palms, it was so very soft, and appeared to be alive with its own liveliness and spark. I was mesmerized by its beauty, and the moment for me appeared to freeze, when it landed on my palm, from somewhere above. I wanted to hold it, but its delicateness, held me from imprisoning it, even for a small while, I continuously looked at it, so pristine in appearance it was, slowly a gush of wind came and it took the small tiny feather with itself to a far unknown land. I was held back by the moment for a while, when the whole thing happened with me. I still remember the softness, the pristinity of the delicate small feather, which eventually gave me a moment worth cherishing forever.