For those interested in a discussion abt this poem, please read the note below nd then go on and read the poem. For those without such patience/interest, well go ahead...
there she was carrying the heavy burden
the burden of a curse so severe that it caused -
a scar that ran through her mind;
a burn that seared her heart;
a pain that throbbed her whole body,
every minute of her existence;
she cud see everything in a view afar her own stand,
she cud talk abt anything in a neutral way - no influence,
she wud criticize everything fair n square...
the cynic - she was called
she initially enjoyed it - even though
her witty words wud sting the men away
her wise cracks fell like whip cracks - causing them all to keep a safe distance..
she was independent in her own way...
n needed a lot of space...
so all this only, suited her...
she walked every path without fear
she moved through the jungle with no one near
she traversed far n wide - alone
she held a passion; a fire...
that scorched the less passionate
some looked at her in awe...
some sulked away
some tried to belittle her
none of this affected her... for she was not only a woman of intensity but of free spirit...
she was a child, a girl, a fascinated creature...
in awe n admiration of everything dark and everything fair...
she read through people but opened up to a lot she found to be good.
she was blatantly honest... n expected the same from others…
she was tactlessly straightforward...
she was blunt with a tongue as sharp as a sword...
she was loyal to the last drop of blood and sensitive when someone qsnd this...
all this was well untill she fell...
fell for the first time in her life to the beautiful feeling, the force she had always imagined, lived with, wanted...
the feeling, the force that was so familiar to her but had never been truly hers...
wen she hurt n bruised her little soul, she realised, that this was just a hint of that force tht she had always wanted... jus a mirage...
n she was not relieved by this revelation... she was even more worried...
if a mirage cud do this... if jus a shadow cud do this...
wat abt the real force that she worshipped...
wat if the real force came on her n left like the shadow did...
will she bleed to death… or will she survive n suffer…
as she thought abt this, she grew used to the fear being a part of her for eternity…
then she evolved into a symbiont or more a host to the parasitic fear tat sucked out her soul slowly…
but she was a gaiety being… an incorrigible optimist… so she did not die…
she had enuf hope n hence enuf life left in her to feed the parasite n keep herself alive…
she survived and suffered. Suffering became nothing new.
The curse of imagination, fantasy and romanticism struck her again…
She grew from a gal to a lady in the process of becoming a woman…
She moved through various worlds and met a lot of people in her everlasting journeys.
Now again she felt the presence of the force she sought all her life.
The force that eluded her always… the force who’s intensity she knew cannot stand but wanted it all the same.,,
the shadow of that force’s shadow planted a kiss on her n she was still craving…
she had been craving for the force all her life with all her might… she was a faithful pupil, a faithful follower.
/* Now the fear took a new form… there she had another revelation. The curse was not jus the trio.
The curse was also that she was never going to find a host of that force she was seeking…
There was no soul man enuf to host the force in the intensity she sought…
bcoz her curse made her (not easily impressed/unimpressed) unimpressible (unimpressionable)…
The cynic could not be convinced so easily. The curse of her imagination had set high std’s.
She wanted the perfect host for the force… For THE force. For HER force…
So no soul that played host for the force was good enuf to become HERS.
But all the same…*/
She knew the force was irresistible… it was indestructible… invincible… n she(her soul)was ready to play a whore for it all her life… because she knew all too well that it wud not stay to be her husband but haunt her all the more…
She knew it was not something to be contained or constrained but to be let free… much like her free spirit will and desire…
But she was possessed; obsessed with the force so much that she knew she was her own victim…
she would seek the force in every creek… every day of the week…
/* every possibility of a host would be analyzed and she would be disappointed. */
She would die trying to belong to it and making it belong to her… coz she knew the force was insatiable much like her ravenous desire for the force… it would not remain… but she also knew she was much too good for the force to not return…
She would survive and suffer… everytime…
For she bore the scar… burnt in her hrt… ached all over her body… every minute of her existence…
For she was carrying the heavy burden of the curse; of imagination, of fantasy and romanticism…
She was a victim of her own desire…
She was the victim of and whore for the force… of her own free spirit… but the truth remains, that so is the force… she realized… even it has an insatiable hunger for her curse, that it came bk to haunt her… all her life…
NOTE:ok... here goes... first read the red colored lines... if u read again u'll notice that the styles n context varies between the lines before and after the underlined line in blue... tats wer i stopped the first day I started writing this poem (21st Sept)...
n now include the light green lines n read the poem again... I had tried to add them in between to minimize the difference between the two days' work... and now the logical conflict arises... initially i am only talking abt the force, but later am talking abt the host and then returning to the force... which doesn suit... well, if at all wat I am trying to explain here makes sense to u, u r welcome to discuss it... else, jus another blog... :)
PS: this is why I am generally not comfortable with stopping a poem half way one day and completing it on a later one.There's a change in the style and or context ranging in intensity from subtle to obvious... hmmpf... :-/
but the wind (read gmail) din bring a word from ma love...
she's there all alone all by herself....
and I am here amidst a bustling crowd, all by myself...
waiting for a word, a touch, a sweet kiss...
the parting was hard on both of us...
the world shifted on its plates...
but there was hope as the wind promised a medium...
for our souls to speak to each other...
for our hearts to listen to the beating out loud of each other's names...
for our hands to still feel the lingering hold wen we last walked together...
with that promise we parted... with tht hope we parted...
and now the wind has betrayed us... our souls are dying...
I will never forgive it for this...
but wat do I not understand, it keeps whispering something in my ear as I say this...
No, tht cannot be... No I know my love too well..
No she would not betray me...No I forbid you to talk abt her like tht to me...
No, I forbid thee, a liar to enter my nostrils...
I deny to live on a wind that betrayed me and put the blame on my love...
I love you darling and I am dying with the pride and honour of having loved and been loved by.. U...
Wrote this wen I had to mail a close friend who promised to mail me over the weekend and failed. I chose to keet the context but changed the roles... ;P
Funny, this thing called inspiration... ;P
Do u know how it feels to be a fcuking loser...?
To hate urself, ur skin, ur soul, every min of ur existence?
To love it all @ the same time, to the same fcuking extent...?
Have u ever felt so sick to ur stomach, so disgusted @ ur own being...?
Have u ever wannd to kill urself and felt ashamed @ ur desire to live, even after having proved not jus to ur own self that u r a fcuking loser...?
Have u ever cried ur heart out, in silent sobs, in darkness, too ashamed of ur defeat inlife, of ur own uselessness...?
Have u ever felt like u r a constant burden, walking this earth, shtting all over the place, leaving behind ur stink...?
And felt the world wrinkle its nose, look @ u with the utmost contempt for u r a loathsome being...
Felt it all even though u do not have the fcuking guts to turn & look for the stench is too bad even though it is ur own...
Have u ever showed ur finger, in ur mind's eye, to "watever it is that brought u into existence", for it is a fcuked up job and u know it well coz u r that job...?
Have u ever felt like a fcuking loser, right in the middle of the world...
Blocking the path of every1 near n around u...
Making them hate u every min though they might not be able to say it all to u...
Have u ever screwed up every time, every time a person tries to clean u up, tries to make u over... Right at that moment wen they try, u sht again, stinking more than before...
Have u ever ever ever felt like a fcuking loser.....?