the glass jar must break

i collected little words from all around me - on roads, in buses, on my bed, under it, the kitchen, the near-dead living room, from smoke-filled chimneys, concrete-bodied terrains, flyovers, trains, flights, closed rooms, dark corners, the markets, rails and ponds and hills and plains, the highest point of cliffs, of buildings, the wet ground, the parched spaces.....from all over wherever I spotted them or they walked past me.....I caught hold of them, of all colours, of all smells...the harsh ones, the soft, the pointed, the crude, the raw, the pretty, the kind, the ugly, the grey,..........and since i didn't know what to do with them, i put them one by one in a glass jar back home.....it's an old glass jar i had from a long long time....and i put them as i caught them.....everyone of them i caught, i put them in there.....without discretions or divisions or reserved spaces......one glass jar and into it all went.........today, you cannot differentiate one from the other.......it is difficult sometimes to identify their origins, from where i picked this one, or who presented me that, or which of them was thrown at me, or the one i nearly missed, or the one thrust into my arm by a boy with compassionate eyes, or even the ones i inherited.....it has become so difficult to recollect their names, addresses, mobile numbers, e-mail ids.....and then i placed the lid atop of my glass jar.....lightly, and let it be....darkness pushed the lid down....tight and hard....rules, mores, conventions, values, morals, all of them, they pushed it so down further.....harder each time...and i had forgotten to leave a hole......the words, i had so fondly picked up, my possessions those, must be suffocating inside.....inactivity, drudgery, sloth sat atop the lid clamping it down......it has now become so tight, it is difficult to take the lid off....the words need to see light, to breathe lest they die, and a slow death it will be, and painful, and heavy.....if the lid won't come off all my collectibles will just perish.....or else the glass jar should break......and the glass scattered in a thousand directions....there will be a thud......and as the jar breaks, the words will flow......it will be the glass that breaks, and the words will form another jar.....afterwards, i will go hunting for more......