Emotions that emerges YOU !
Suffering enjoys us. It loves our blood that is why it dosen’t leave us, so easily. We apply our wisdom to unsettle it. These sufferings at times are bold. They hit you hard to tell you, its yours and only you will bear. Who is this? Doctor.. mother..father.. brother…friend. He laughs. What will they provide. Emotions! Have you seen your beloved reading your poetry. It’s a sun bath in a cold weather of separation for her. She immensely enjoys whatever she reads and hear about you.she enjoys licking her pain. She won’t let you know this. She would keep you hanging in uncertainty. Because she loves to see you dying for her. It suits her. And not disclosing suits her social norms she has to maintain. It raises bar of her image. Who gets sacrificed here. Whose pain oozes, who keep me, the suffering going and assure me my survival. I won’t end. She won’t let me dead. And you won’t either stop calling her your life. It is merely a misconception. You are a child of miscarriage. She belongs to me. You belong to her only through me !
#anilnakhasi
Absence- the Representative of Present!
Her being present was like his being absent. It was almost regular, whenever a slightest kind of pain would occur. Talking loudly or in feeble voice was a kind of marking her attendance of not much interested. She was living in a void and would continue to work and smile. Closing of door doesn’t mean much except the agreed limited movements for her. Feeding the birds visiting her veranda was hers religious practice. Bird would fly to search. She doesn’t but search is there. Bird would drop in. No such hope of his coming. Bird would stay for a while. To eat, to rest. He is with her in each moment but she has no rest. Restless she is. Birds fly high to embrace the faith. She, everyday, is picking the pieces of her doubts. She had a sharp eyes to pierce his heart, but, her sharpness failed to notice him. She is a story in hide. Stolen by wants. He is a story present. Narrated by absence !
#anilnakhasi