Sometimes, when you see a swing empty, it overwhelms you in the same way it did when you were a kid. You rush towards it and sit on it and start pushing yourself with the help of your feet. You go up and down and up again, following a perfect rhythm. And sometimes, no matter how hard you hold onto the rope, or clutch the rope tightly, it breaks. It imbalances your centre of gravity. It throws you on the ground. It wounds you and makes you bleed. But still, it depends on you what you choose. Whether you keep lying on the cold hard ground, or you stand up, dust the sand off your hands and knees, wipe your tears dry, apply a band-aid on your wounded knees, mend the broken rope, and continue swinging again. Same is the matter with life. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, it makes you fall on a place where there’s only you to save yourself. It depends whether you start hating the swing for making you hug the ground or get up and tell it that you can cling better and that there’s more to see. Just like we go with the wind through our hair on our swing, we go with the flow of our life.