I had thought I would write a poem.
I re-thought it.
Words come easier to me now.
So I wrote something. But not a poem.
Words are one way of giving yourself out. The most exposing way there could be. With proof and all.
And to take refuge in a box made of glass had been my mistake. One of many.
I sit at the dining table of my home. I had just gotten here, after two months. Will be there for three days. just three days.
My mother comes with my favorite dish she had made for my homecoming. And a bolt of sudden weirdness hits me. I look around at all the people.
Here is this 57 year old man, a retired officer who works harder than he can take.
Here is a woman of 47 who sleeps 5 hours a day and work the rest 19 of them.
Here is a girl of 24 who studies all night and stays in university for half of the day.
Here are two little boys, 12 and 11, who look so similar that its hard for us to tell them apart.
Here are two girls, 17 and 16, one at peace with the other, not all the time. at peace nevertheless.
And they all have a different life. We live together but when you think about it we are all random people, having different likes, different lives. We live together. That is a big thing.
I watch movies where they say stuff about blood ties.
I only just felt the truth in them
As blood binds us, we shall never part.
As blood binds us, rifts between us shall never last.
Bitterness shall never stand in our ways.
We will always find each other in all this haze
We are family.
and that is a bigger thing than all my realities put together.
I turned 20 twenty-one day ago. I had left teens two year back. I left my home that november morning a kid, sheltered and fed at the hands of a mother who thinks she can protect me from the bitterness in this life. I left home for a place that now had changed me from what I was.
Change always creeps in slowly. Gradually.
And I had no idea that I was so against change. So unwilling to take it.
Instead of mayhem, I chose a corner to observe people who had more life to lose in this city than I do. I have a tiny life afterall. And the stakes are always too high. I observed them and got tired.
Even in that state I never thought about being more active than i was.
Its a life long strife and I chose peace a very long time ago.
I compare and contrast how much words hurt. Here and at home.
How you hold onto one word and let it stand in your way of joy.
How people can make you do stuff easily when your sisters cannot persuade you at all.
People have an alluring aura. People give off a scent of being pleased, and you go ahead and please them
Be their pet. A lapdog. To be thrown away whenever they stand up.
How at home the closest your can know you friends is by talking to them all day long.
And here by supporting their wrong choices, in their pursuit of happiness.
How everytime you get angry with family it means the same to them.
And how it never means anything here even the first time you get angry.
You muffle up your cries.
you pull out that shiner smile.
Brush your teeth and give the shiner a glory everyone shall remember.
Hold up your head high and move on.
NOBODY GIVES A FUCK.
I am maybe wiser than I was two years back.
I am no wiser than I look.
I am no deeper than I look.
My words are shallow.
My cries are hollow
My eyes are dry
but they weren't always.
My words deceive you
My look deceives you
My attire deceives you
I deceive you
with each word that I utter.
I build a castle of lies that I will be buried under one day.
I am a lie.
And how can you know who I am when I have no idea who I am?
I have stooped lower than imagination, broken the neck of the little pride I had, to keep the promises I had made. Promises that I thought would be easier to keep.
Change. I blame change.
As I now sit here, at 2:50am in the end-of-summer-pre-winter-breeze, I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the wind. Its a chill you feel when something is about to change.
I question the air, how much more?
I re-thought it.
Words come easier to me now.
So I wrote something. But not a poem.
Words are one way of giving yourself out. The most exposing way there could be. With proof and all.
And to take refuge in a box made of glass had been my mistake. One of many.
I sit at the dining table of my home. I had just gotten here, after two months. Will be there for three days. just three days.
My mother comes with my favorite dish she had made for my homecoming. And a bolt of sudden weirdness hits me. I look around at all the people.
Here is this 57 year old man, a retired officer who works harder than he can take.
Here is a woman of 47 who sleeps 5 hours a day and work the rest 19 of them.
Here is a girl of 24 who studies all night and stays in university for half of the day.
Here are two little boys, 12 and 11, who look so similar that its hard for us to tell them apart.
Here are two girls, 17 and 16, one at peace with the other, not all the time. at peace nevertheless.
And they all have a different life. We live together but when you think about it we are all random people, having different likes, different lives. We live together. That is a big thing.
I watch movies where they say stuff about blood ties.
I only just felt the truth in them
As blood binds us, we shall never part.
As blood binds us, rifts between us shall never last.
Bitterness shall never stand in our ways.
We will always find each other in all this haze
We are family.
and that is a bigger thing than all my realities put together.
I turned 20 twenty-one day ago. I had left teens two year back. I left my home that november morning a kid, sheltered and fed at the hands of a mother who thinks she can protect me from the bitterness in this life. I left home for a place that now had changed me from what I was.
Change always creeps in slowly. Gradually.
And I had no idea that I was so against change. So unwilling to take it.
Instead of mayhem, I chose a corner to observe people who had more life to lose in this city than I do. I have a tiny life afterall. And the stakes are always too high. I observed them and got tired.
Even in that state I never thought about being more active than i was.
Its a life long strife and I chose peace a very long time ago.
I compare and contrast how much words hurt. Here and at home.
How you hold onto one word and let it stand in your way of joy.
How people can make you do stuff easily when your sisters cannot persuade you at all.
People have an alluring aura. People give off a scent of being pleased, and you go ahead and please them
Be their pet. A lapdog. To be thrown away whenever they stand up.
How at home the closest your can know you friends is by talking to them all day long.
And here by supporting their wrong choices, in their pursuit of happiness.
How everytime you get angry with family it means the same to them.
And how it never means anything here even the first time you get angry.
You muffle up your cries.
you pull out that shiner smile.
Brush your teeth and give the shiner a glory everyone shall remember.
Hold up your head high and move on.
NOBODY GIVES A FUCK.
I am maybe wiser than I was two years back.
I am no wiser than I look.
I am no deeper than I look.
My words are shallow.
My cries are hollow
My eyes are dry
but they weren't always.
My words deceive you
My look deceives you
My attire deceives you
I deceive you
with each word that I utter.
I build a castle of lies that I will be buried under one day.
I am a lie.
And how can you know who I am when I have no idea who I am?
I have stooped lower than imagination, broken the neck of the little pride I had, to keep the promises I had made. Promises that I thought would be easier to keep.
Change. I blame change.
As I now sit here, at 2:50am in the end-of-summer-pre-winter-breeze, I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the wind. Its a chill you feel when something is about to change.
I question the air, how much more?
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