Not my time...

-



It is not my time, 

To stand at doors

With open arms. 

Patiently scouring 

The box for the missing

Piece of the jigsaw, 

Well aware that it makes sense

At this point to accept

It still looks complete. 

Running to eyes, 

Saddened by past betrayals, 

To ask, what can I do

So that you feel deserving? 


It is not my time, 

To be helpful, loving or warm. 

I have done all of that, 

Not to receive compliments or truths, 

Not to console my tired, aching bones. 

I should not have to be

An open book to be read

Just to make others feel more intelligent. 

All they need to do is reach out

For me on the shelf, and sit still

On the chair, while they figure out

If I'm really worth all the hours, 

They put in to understand the ending. 

I should come with a warning, 

'Read only if you want to change'. 

But change doesn't always come

From actions of the brave. 

Change comes from thoughts, 

From dreaming of better days. 

A word by itself is powerful enough

For even the sceptics to embrace

All the beauty that not knowing brings, 

All the journeys we begin each day. 


It is not my time, 

To ask, are you okay? 

Because I did, I have, 

I still care and remember. 

But only if I'm remembered too, 

For all the insights I bring, 

For all the nights I have not been okay. 

Who checked on my crumbling 

Into silence, who held my hand, 

When I wanted to be weak for once? 

No one did. So now I wait for no one too. 

Look, life is easy for the easy ones, 

They are scooped up by the strong, 

Pushed back up by kindness, 

By words and deeds and rights and wrongs. 

But I'm not easy, neither am I strong. 

I don't think you understand who I am, 

I don't think you know where I belong. 


It is not my time, 

To try to make you feel better. 

I know you are feeling low. 

But maybe if you reached out to me, 

You would learn how to let go. 

Let go of fear, anger and suffering, 

That seem to consume you these days. 

Maybe I need someone to hold me, 

Someone gentle, endless and brave. 

Maybe if you hold me long enough,

You will see, that you are everything

You thought you lacked, 

I am everything I thought

I always wanted to be. 

That we are both weak and strong, 

Gentle and kind, bare bones and warm flesh, 

Tangled roots and wet earth, 

Longing to reach for blue skies ahead. 


It is not my time, 

To be you. 

It is your time, 

To be me. 

To find again

What you lost before, 

As I let the wind

Carry away my memory. 

Chase it, find it, 

Remind me of who 

I used to be. 

Just as I did for you once. 

It is not my time, 

This time. 

It's yours. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Decade Later

-
Image
Then Now It's finally over, my turbulent 20s. I don't think anyone would be so happy to turn 30, but I am. Finally! It's amazing how everyone believes that the teenage years are the most difficult. They are not. It's the 20s, that time of uncertainty and changes, that is. No one warns you about it, and most people just go around questioning their identities, their goals and their feelings during this time, and getting depressed or drugged out over it. Luckily for me, my sister, three years ahead of me, put down the warning sign. 'It's going to be very difficult, but after 27-28, it'll get easier." I have some young friends who are in that group now, and I try to be patient with them, tell them it's okay to feel confused, it's okay to not know what you want... It was difficult. I don't know how many times I have redefined who I was in the last ten years. I went from being a virgin to a wife to a divorcee by 25; and from a student to a journa
Read more

The Story of K (contd.)

-
K is perfect for me. The only problem is, he is imaginary. I made him up, hoping to visualise my fantasies into reality. In the process, I may have just done something that I myself am not aware of. Besides, it's always safer not to meddle with the powers of wish fulfilment. And I unknowingly, may have just done that...
Read more

Bringing It Back

-
Image
The simplest things in life are the ones that need to be cherished...like memories..like mothers...It's my Mom's birthday at the end of this month, and it comes once in four years. I always wanted to buy her diamonds, but my financial condition is so bad that I can't buy her anything at all. So I've decided to write her a letter, a long one...to tell her how muchI was always in awe of her as a child. She, the most beautiful, most kindest mother that one could have. Her food was always better than anyone else's, so was her style and her grace. My friends in school always looked in envy at my gorgeous mother with her short hair and sexy frocks. They begged to exchange tiffins with me. So I gave up three layered sandwiches and au gratin for someone's poha or chakli. She got us flowers everyday, and books from her office library which got us raps from Papa because they were read at the dinner table, also left in loos. I always say I owe who I am to a perfect mother
Read more