Friday, August 3, 2012

THE ORDINARY PEOPLE

Shining through..., Valley of Flowers, Uttarakhand, India
 So, this is what it feels like. When you forget the favorite line of your favorite song. When you close your eyes for an instant and realize that you have been asleep for so long. When you fall off the earth trying to catch a rainbow. When you misread a whisper. When you peel your own skin to save any scrap of soul still breathing.

The day, as dark as a moonless night.
Sun shining. A ball of blinding light.
Stuck in between, a confused conscience.
Trying its best, to wrong every right.

What I do is imagine myself in complete darkness. The light fizzles and confuses. It distorts the imagination. Hides the true colors. Reveals all the doubts. The dark placates the need to hide anything. Reveals the unseen. Evens the odds. Bridges the gap between too soon and too late. It lets the courage and fear reside in the same eyes. No one lives and no one dies.

The roads were broken at several places.
Many a souls lost their spirits here.
Another pair of foolish boot starts afresh.
Filled with courage, but mostly in fear.

The clouds have returned. These are not rain drops anymore. There are moments from the past gliding and swaying before my eyes. All shining and glowing. A few with delight. Others with tears. Precious all the same. Not one of them meet the earth. They all shine my path. Till the darkness will make them redundant.

The rays fell on me and bounced back.
And, I resembled a shining ghost.
The dead were smiling at me,
But, I was barely alive, at the most.

And, this is what it feels like. When you just want to lean for some time on a wall and it crumbles with the weight of your shoulders. The bricks, save for those at the bottom, lies scattered all around your feet. And you smile because you couldn’t even plan your ruin properly. You discover a piece of wall among them and read something what you had written ages ago. It takes an extraordinary courage to live an ordinary life. And, then you sit on your half ruin, put on your headphones, and play your favorite song and whistle as your favorite line breathes into your soul. And you believe, everything will be fine. Even if the feeling lasts as long as the song.

Like a pride of a horror painting,
Nailed alone on a brick wall.
For the last time, he stood straight.
And this time, he will not fall.

2 comments:

  1. Nice writing style with some nice use of words. Liked the poem in between. The thing about darkness, cloud was simply superb. Aapko itne ache ache khayalat kaise aate hain. You should keep writing like this. We all will keep reading like this. All the best for the next one.

    ReplyDelete