Someday I would like to thrive
in a world devoid of gadgets
away from this virtual world
uninterrupted and unseen
in a peaceful seclusion
that would prompt me
to love my own existence,
to realize that I’m simply me:
no pretensions, nobody to impress;
with just my favorite music playing
and an earthy book in my hands
that would smell like trees
I would like to keep things whole
I would like to keep them for me.
“Oh you’re so good at Math. Why don’t you become an engineer?”
“I think you guys get along really well. Why don’t you get into a relationship?”
“I saw you having fun at the party the other day. I don’t think you are an introvert.”
“You’re 25! It’s about time you should get married.”
Whenever I come across some people making comments like these to other people around me, I can’t help but empathize with them. I wish I could tell them they’re suffering from a chronic case of tunnel vision.
But now I guess it’s time for me to speak because I’ve found the medicine to this serious illness. It is ‘reality check’ – a medicine that helps people see things for what they are (rather than what they want those things to be).
People who take a dose of reality check every now and then realize that the person who is good at math might be interested in becoming a writer. The two people who get along well, might not be romantically attracted to each other at all.
Realistic people know that introverts socialize selectively, they’re not aliens altogether. And, 25 may not be the right age for everyone to get married.
Dear friend, when I look at you
I can think of nothing
in my entire consciousness
more beautiful than your face.
And hey, just so you know
I can’t be any Shakespeare
to describe how much I like
your face in extravagant detail.
I also hope you know that
it’s not just your face but your
entirety that brings me immense glee
I cannot experience from elsewhere.
Sometimes I can’t help but laugh
at how lucky I am
at how kind life has been
to bring you into my life.
Let me also tell you, my friend,
that nothing else comforts me
more than being beside you and
imbibing the silence deep within.
I surely realize that the bond we share
is that of an unlikely friendship
which is immaculate, insane and filled
to the brim with selfless concern.
Dear friend, I love you,
like a monkey loves a pigeon
an odd combination but
even together, against all odds.
I watched the old man
sitting on the park bench
all by himself, staring listlessly
I couldn’t tell where.
May he was measuring
the relativity of his life
with the nauseatic newness
of everything around him.
His determined hands
that had grown old from
working hard day and night
held a beautiful flower.
His eyes glistened with tears
which were not of loneliness
and definitely not because
he feared his approaching death.
The tears began flowing
uninvited, triggering within
the man an irreversible
growth of deep guilt.
The old man was guilty
of not living his life his way,
because nobody ever told him
that emotions matter.