Heroes sometimes don’t come in Masks….
I am strong because I was weak.
I know what’s loyalty because I was betrayed.
I don’t care because once I had cared too much.
I am silent now because the words that came out were often misinterpreted.
I don’t wear clothes that are clean.
I have made mistakes, grave mistakes that shattered me, my image, my ego.
It’s a delusional world, you see. We tend to be attracted towards the ones who ignore us, loyalty, faith, belief have been made cheap, disgusting by people who very proudly say they are the harbingers of love.
What is love?
Singing, dancing, romanticising is it love?
Or is it something more deep, something more divine.
All, including me, you, are hypocrites. We wear faces, masks that cover the one face we don’t show to anyone, falsely accusing anyone who crosses our ways. Because it is easy to accuse, get done with the responsibilities and oh yes, wear a mask so that the entire universe sympathizes with you, glooming over the fact that you have been a victim of an attack. But, the real face, the one you haven’t shown to anyone, yes that one, it is the one true you.
I admit today I am not happy with what my that face has shown me. The past, the many devious concoctions. But yes, I am ready to improve, ready to let go off everything to start afresh, build new foundations for the future. We were made to make mistakes, mistakes that taught us that fire should not be played with, that a bleeding wound needs to be looked at or else you will be infected, that throwing a stone at the sky will hit you back, sometime.
Yes, I am ready to show my face to the world.
The question is, are you….?
Starry was the night,
Brighter the day,
You and I, met on a rainy day,
Shivering with cold,
Drenched in the golden pour,
You ran into the shed next door,
I watched you open your soaked hair,
I wish that was a moment I could save,
Trying hard not to look,
I pushed myself away,
Mister, sit down if I may,
The rain is heavy and the car away,
And she was a beauty,
How could I disarray,
Words froze in my mouth,
Hands trembled as they were on fire,
Relax, I don’t bite,
Here have this hot tea,
She poured a cup for me and she,
Thank you Ma’am,
What all I could say,
She looked into the rain,
The infinity seemed a reality away,
A pup was shooed,
Rain falls in different ways,
Hold my cup,
I shall go,
And she ran,
The pup was in her arms,
The shed can hold three,
She giggled and laughed,
I saw your soul and fell in love……
Sometimes satisfaction is all you need.
Although I don’t say anything about people sharing my posts. But it would be nice if I was told that my posts are being shared.
Plagriasm is a crime. Originality and the hard work of anyone goes down the drain during this process.
Please take care.
P. S- this came when I saw a completely similar blog which had some of my posts.
It’s funny isn’t it?
We cry for things so complex. A bigger house, hike in salary, travelling abroad, tasting exotic cuisines.
But the things that usually silence the storms in our heart are so simple, so serene…
It’s funny isn’t it…..
Gift a jar of lights.
Like fireflies. They glow. They live. They fade away….
P.s- Amma brought this big glass jar to store lemon pickle. And I put lights in it. She had to wash it again, and I was reduced to ashes. 😔
There are people, good people who deal with your Devils everyday, bearing every type of heartbreaking accusations.
Some people do gather the courage to understand that all the time it was they who had been wearing faulty glasses.
All they saw was faults of those people, Good people who dealt with Devils that even did not belong to them.
Each of us has been granted a life not with our wish but with the wish of someone more powerful than any of us.
It becomes our responsibility to realize this simple little fact-
Rains pouring on a stormy night,
Were heavenly, were a sight,
Many cried in a tone so unknown,
My crops are fed,
My roof is no more.
I cursed the god,
What went so wrong,
Thundered the god,
A house of cards can stay so long…
Blaming is easy. Anyone can do it.
It takes courage to realize and mend your own mistake.
Be one of those good people.
Usually the rains are too harsh on them.
Our dreams and aspirations do take a shape.
For some it is a structure of bricks,
For some few claps in admiration.
Dreams are a wagon to our future self.
Slowly, but some time we will be there.