Every moony night,
When the milky light bathes me
The eternity vexes my momentary bliss
With the beckoning of unanswered calls
I ignore, pull myself
To cuddle my assuring pillow
I snub the mysterious path
And lock my conscious under the eyelids
But, with every rising sun
I encounter a new day- a new me and a new you
My search sets free my ardor
To read the expressions on your face-
To find one little sign of concern,
To hear one sigh of relief,
To feel one touch of love
When my eyes rest on you,
And your eyes are lost elsewhere
I fall into a deep slumber
With dreams kissing my open eyes
And colors settle on my utopia
Days come, years fly by
I am silent, my tears dry
A lifetime is not enough for me and you
Ages, we have to span …
To get through
My eyes dream, my heart dances
The soul sings of immortal romances
If I am granted a wish of choice
I will ask for eternal rejoice
Time be stagnant when you are with me
Spring bloom on every branch and tree
Life can never be so beautiful
Its when you are with me
Is it a miracle, or magic could it be
Is it my life or some Cinderella’s story?
The first ray of truth and the spell is over
Your face has vanished in a flicker
I have found you to lose myself again
I have found the truth of me
That I am a lovelorn, lonely being
Like the pearl forced out of shell
By the roaring winds and surging waves
To crash against the shore
All alone and on my own
To be found the next morn
And sold with other priced stones
Its not a script of some play or movie, it’s a truth. Who says love is a dream? It’s not a part of fairy tales. It’s a ground reality of life. Life is bed of roses indeed but, when do roses come without thorns? When is love not accompanied with pain, longing and anguish? This is my story….say it a love story, a tragicomedy, a tragedy or a soap opera. Afterall, stories are inspired by realism. Isn’t it?
I am neither unknown to love stories nor untouched by Cupid’s spell. It is just that I don’t response. I don’t share my sweet dreams with anyone, I don’t smile at myself, I don’t gaze at mirrors and blush, I don’t love the nature, I don’t dance in the rain, I don’t feel the soothing rain water, I don’t count the stars at night, I don’t wait for the moon, I don’t whisper to the plants, I don’t chat with God. I feel the pure love in the sunrays, in the fragrant air but I am not in love because, I am dead.
I died a year ago along with my husband. The only difference is: my body has been preserved for sake of my three little children. I was a woman belonging to low strata of society but, I led a happy married life. My husband not only loved me but also gave me life and right to live in the society. Now that he’s dead, I am dead again. Everyday, I push myself to work with concerns and worries of home. With every sunset, my doors close with a silent prayer. My face has overgrown my age; my eyes have a pool of tears in store. The book of my life is closed.
Alas, someone is knocking on my door. I fear they have come to know about the drama, my act of being dead. They will kill me… is there anyone to help me. Perhaps, there is one. One, who liked me, loved me, worshipped me like God, and cherished me like dream, as a friend, as a well wisher and as a support to my family. He’s my children’s best friend. He has been waiting for me for years and he’s still waiting with a smile on face. His eyes follow my vanishing smile and trickling tears. His arms yearn to hold me, his ears long to hear his name.
But, how can I accept his love? Why should I ruin his life? Why should I ask for what I don’t deserve? Why should I part him from his youth, his friends, family and society? I find his love adorning my world. But, I can’t acknowledge it. I have words eager to speak out but my lips are frozen, my face is too livid for expressions to emerge. I am but a dead body. I should not speak else the vultures guarding the society will devour me to safeguard the sanctity of love and womanhood.
My lover, you asked me to embrace you just once. But, you see, it is simply impossible. I neither have the right to breathe freely nor choose my groom. Goodbye my love… but, alas… you are taking my heart with you… it’s beating too fast. It’s showing signs of life. I am alive.
(P.S. -> Friends, I met a lady on my way to home and I was quite impressed with her jolly nature. Her story inspired me to write this post. I wrote the poem during my train journey from Delhi to Patna. The complete post is divided into two parts, both written in different mind sets but pointing to same feeling called ‘love’. Life is a book of experience. Isn’t it? [:)] )