I have been meaning to understand it all well. However I realise that sometimes nothing seems good enough a reason. I was disturbed to see your sickness, your inability to plead and a mind that was too twisted for my taste. The trouble was, whenever the disorganised sound arose from the bedroom, the water would stop flowing from the pipe. A thin line of light entered the window which gave a look of a lens in that split second. Enchanted with the graciousness of so many colours disembark on a plain floor the mind was thinking of something else. What should have been euphoric turned out to be turbulence on a ride to the liquor bar.
In little words the girl wrote a poem on her mother and the latter beat her for playing with the Muslim children. Her eyes, filled with tears looked at her father who had a satisfied grin of rowing a rocky boat. It was stupid to believe that they didn’t love the child. She meant everything to their threatened world of immobility. The delightful blue of the night unmasking a region that belonged to no mankind began to close in on the sleeping mind.
Due to this fancy choice of words my friends were too many. Everyone loved to know the deepest secret only to feel secured that they didn’t crack its meaning. Many years later these musings got them into trouble and the Lord closed his eyes to pray. All workers gathered around the bubbling pool of joy where men and women did not swim. Instead they tested the waters and drowned themselves in the myth of sorrows. Perhaps, I wasn’t far too behind. I memorised my lines before the act and tapped the person in front of me to ask if it was my turn next. I learnt it wasn’t. My turn would come only if I didn’t wait in an unhealthy queue of thoughts that ask ‘if’ and ‘but’.
While I think:
More and more
Dreams of the future
Loners at heart
Trying to forget
There’s life to lead tomorrow
No use drowning in sorrow
When things go sore
Death nears you more
We can only bear
Things we love dear
Not that we can’t take
Mistakes, everyday we make
It’s just that…
Things like blood and gore
We can’t ignore
When minds are at ease
We can see more peace
Love when we bar
There one thing – WAR!
(Nayana, 11/96)
In little words the girl wrote a poem on her mother and the latter beat her for playing with the Muslim children. Her eyes, filled with tears looked at her father who had a satisfied grin of rowing a rocky boat. It was stupid to believe that they didn’t love the child. She meant everything to their threatened world of immobility. The delightful blue of the night unmasking a region that belonged to no mankind began to close in on the sleeping mind.
Due to this fancy choice of words my friends were too many. Everyone loved to know the deepest secret only to feel secured that they didn’t crack its meaning. Many years later these musings got them into trouble and the Lord closed his eyes to pray. All workers gathered around the bubbling pool of joy where men and women did not swim. Instead they tested the waters and drowned themselves in the myth of sorrows. Perhaps, I wasn’t far too behind. I memorised my lines before the act and tapped the person in front of me to ask if it was my turn next. I learnt it wasn’t. My turn would come only if I didn’t wait in an unhealthy queue of thoughts that ask ‘if’ and ‘but’.
While I think:
More and more
Dreams of the future
Loners at heart
Trying to forget
There’s life to lead tomorrow
No use drowning in sorrow
When things go sore
Death nears you more
We can only bear
Things we love dear
Not that we can’t take
Mistakes, everyday we make
It’s just that…
Things like blood and gore
We can’t ignore
When minds are at ease
We can see more peace
Love when we bar
There one thing – WAR!
(Nayana, 11/96)
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