The Poet!

For as long as I remembered, I had shunned the emotion of love. I had ridiculed my friends for getting attached too quickly, for losing control over their lives. Most of the times, I teased them with profound arguments of how undeserving their beloved was, finding flaws in her gait, posture, personality and sincerity.

‘Love has a mysterious power to blindfold judgement’, they all told me in an annoying tone…’Just wait and watch!’, they said. None of their views on romanticism surpassed my disapproving criticism by any means.

Love had never been my subject of interest. With my majors in mathematics, I was more practical when it came to emotions. My books had all progressivism of profit, instalments, investment and banking… Yet nothing of that sort at an emotional level, there was no room at all. By sitting on computers all day long, I must admit I had become mechanical, devoid of soft feelings.

Not too long, that I felt a weakness in me, the pain of being stung by a snake, the guilt of tasting forbidden fruit and a feeling of a downfall.

I tried hard to fight this bewitching emotion that entrapped me like a charm. I focused my self on my career, my idea of success, my workaholic lifestyle and my plan to travel lightweight without settling at a fixed abode.

Yet the emotion weighed heavy on my shoulders, invisible yet intense, hollow yet fulfilling. It was the most irrational expectation leaving me on a cliff hanger where I felt both the fear of a free fall yet the liberating freedom to fly.

For a fleeting moment, I visualised my most precious luggage that she had, the crease of sunshine, the flickering flame of a candle, the silence of muffled snow and the sound of pouring rain.

She was a combination of beauty, creativity, eloquence and passion. Or perhaps this was how I saw her.

I diagnosed myself of being on the last stage of love. It was when no medicine works and no therapy is of use. No criticism and wisdom of my friends could revive me. I was in a state of a comma where feelings are hard to explain yet they explain everything.

I felt the magnetic force, the same force that draws a bee to the honey, a butterfly to the nectar and a moth to the flame. She had the same gravitational effect on me as the full moon has on the ocean tides.

I felt a rebirth into a new warmth. I cried. Yet found the presence of solace and comfort.

I felt courageous by putting my fears aside. I now discovered how faith and love made heroes out of ordinary common man.

For the first time, I took a paper and a pen out, not to practice my numeracy skills but to lift the barrier of love within me and let it flow freely.

This nasty encounter left me to abandon the vessel and plunge into the sea.

I now realised that amidst this beautiful storm… I controlled… Nothing!!

My friends came to the rescue, first they annoyed me with vain talk in the name of karma.. then they reminded me how I used to write poems as a child. ‘Let the emotion flow out of you’, they suggested.

Today, while being in a pensive mood, while sitting on my study table, sipping my cup of tea, I took out the same old brown diary. An unusual book that recorded all the times of my emotional turmoil.

I wanted to write a poem that described how I felt for her, yet was shy enough to speak to her upfront, being just friends. This is how best I thought I could express, keeping in mind the limitations of the endless sea of emotions within the confined margins of a short poem.

I sit upon this chair,

With intentions to mine gold,

A pen in my hand,

The papers scattered forth,

It would be a wonder,

To write the words I wish to say,

But as I write them all down,

They get jumbled by mistake.

What does the tree have to say?

To the Sun with all its shine,

What do the birds say?

To the water so divine.

To the gust of wind that blows,

Her majestic hair is grateful,

Who gives the news to the flowers?

Who in contrast seem distasteful.

The blind may lose their sight,

Yet they cry all the same,

How can some people be without homes,

Yet have stars to their names?

We all stand upon a cliff,

Solid to the core,

Offering us a chance to jump,

Or is it an invitation to soar?

To the one who runs the fastest,

In a city of men with wings,

What do I say to thee?

What solace would my words bring?

The point I try to make to you,

Is lost within these lines,

But how did these poets express,

These lessons learnt through time???

(c) all rights reserved.

19 thoughts on “The Poet!

  1. Beautiful 👍👍you always forgot to mention who forced you to write and made you realise how beautifully you can express yourself in words. But no doubt you have a very strong grip and a very graceful style of writing, way to go!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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