At times I feel I am fighting a lost battle. Anything I do, say or attempt, makes no difference. I am stuck in a rut, the more I try the more I get trapped.

And yet, there is a small voice inside that keeps rearing its Head, goading me to carry on the path I have chosen. There may be obstacles, there may be gravel, there may be ditches on that road, but ultimately it’s my destiny to walk on. The little voice repeats it’s musings like a mantra, someday somewhere somehow you will eke out a beautiful life.

Destiny and Destination may sound so similar and yet they are so different from each other. Reaching a place, achieving a goal, fulfilling a dream may seem so alluring. And yet it’s the journey, the planning, the process that matters.

A skilled potter never hurries. His art begins right from the moment he first touches the soil. The patience and care he exerts in selecting the right soil, the time he spends in removing gravel, the way he sieves the coarse particles away, discarding pebbles and adding the right amount of water to make perfectly malleable clay is where lies his real art.

The amount of pressure he applies to the wheel, the way he moves his hands and the loving gentle way the final pot is removed, all contribute to the fineness and perfection of pottery. Even the fierce burning of raw clay pots in furnace, is done with a certain clarity and firmness.

As I think about the humble potter and his skills, I am nothing but awed by the myriad ways God uses to push us towards our Destination. Destiny it may seem and yet Free Will it is, that paves the path. In tragedy it’s really difficult to look at the silver line, and yet every time my world is clouded, I couldn’t help but wonder where the Sunshine lies! Often round the corner, yet invisible.

So is destiny, so is life, so are dreams and so are expectations. They are always there, hidden behind one another in plain view, becoming apparent only when a certain set of conditions are met. And then blinded by the sudden plethora of light and delight, I wonder where it had been for so long. And then that little voice inside mumbles, it had always been there, you were looking in the wrong direction!

What is life if not a mumbo jumbo of intricate lanes! Underpasses and bypasses here run parallel to highways and I am often fooled by sudden turns. Hopefully I am God’s Fool, and he, as always would make sure I reach the right place despite many wrong turns. Anupama Sarkar