Maybe

Maybe I’m the fly in the honey

Drenched in its sweetness

Intoxicated by its power

Unable to pull myself free

Maybe I’m the honey

The golden sheen adorning my body

Made to change every other flavour

To the one that’s mine

Maybe I’m the bottle that holds the honey

That keeps it safe and collected

That is otherwise useless

But just so essential

Maybe I’m the man who tastes the honey,

Loves it for what it is,

Comprehends its utility

And loves to see it drip to make the most tantalizing platter of all

Question existing – Which one of these are you?

The heat continues to melt

The almost liquid trees

And the scenery before me vanishes

Into a pit of raging fire

 

Roots of a hundred year old tress – pull themselves up from the earth

Clouds that would have translated into rain – gather into a storm

Daylight stops caressing the buds – instead begins to sting

 

And my heart all hale and hearty

Begins to wither away and pleads…

 

Spare me this time from the torture of love

Being just a stretch away

The past week I’ve been indulging with my family. A week long holiday followed by evenings spent in movie theatres has become the routine. Well, holidays are the time of indulgence because one has pretty much nothing else to do.

 

Every time I’m outside the periphery of my house I’m onto observing people (and assessing them quite critically!). It’s amazing how much you can decipher of a stranger merely by his conduct in public. There are those ‘won’t catch my eye more than once’ kinds and then there are the more engaging ones. Young girls in their lacy frocks ready to cling onto a teddy bear, young boys looking up at adults willing on to take on the world, women with men holding their hands, men holding hands eyeing you because you’re a girl… the list is endless.

 

I see a gang of girls who can’t stop chattering and giggling and I can’t stop wondering where they get all that enthusiasm from, I see a family complete with mum and dad and kids dining away to glory… I pretty much see the world. And I know with all its complications and ‘oh-my-gods’ life is extremely simple and plain. No matter how great you are or how down trodden you are still matter of the same kind.

 

So now every time I see someone worth assessing I’m planning to pen down something about that person. Lord save you from my radar!

‘And your point is?’

So often I walk right into scenes where someone else’s judgement becomes the word of the day. I don’t understand why that happens. I’m no longer a kid who’s unaware of the right or a teenager who’s unaware of the distinction between the right and the wrong. Yet, on most occasions it is someone else’s perceptions that define my vision and his knowledge or lack of it that marks my boundaries. Whenever I attempt to flout those opinions and stand in answer to my own problem I’m rebuked for being selfish or ignorant or arrogant. And when I do get downright and outright open with them and say, ‘…and your point is?’ I get scolded for being blunt and disrespectful.

Now honestly! How long do I have to stand and watch a spectacle of my life being designed by others? Why should society, family, peers, friends matter so much more than my own individuality? I’m not out chasing good for nothing guys nor am I in a cult worshipping demons. Yet, if something I do doesn’t follow a standard it doesn’t find acceptability and if I refuse to accept the standards of acceptance I become one of the outsiders, in extreme cases, an outcast.

Yet I’m not going to mend my ways. If the question bothers anyone they should use my advice and stop giving me theirs. Because when I don’t agree with your reasoning I’m not going to argue or defend, I’m only going to pose one simple question ‘…and your point is?’

 

 

For a friend…

 

There was a time when people didn’t understand you because of your disability

Now is the time when people don’t understand you because of their disability

(of ignorance and knowledge they simply can’ retain… you know who you are even if you never read this)