As we grow older, we begin to
believe in impossibilities, in defying the miracles and looking for purposes
behind every action and word spoken.
Learning the names of colors,
red, orange, white, blue, brown, violet…it seems like a game as a child, a rainbow
and then the same colors one day become the giant parameters on which we are
judged and our limits are set. The rainbow shrinks to white, brown and black.
The God, we are taught to thank
and love. All of a sudden transforms into something to fear, run and hide from,
someone whose name can justify taking a thousand souls and breaking a million
hearts.
The story of Adam and Eve…we are
all branches of the same tree … yet somehow with every passing year we grow to
learn how one branch is different than the other, some bearing fruits, some
green and some leafless and some are to be cut off for the survival of the
others.
Love, “too young to know what
conscience is”…. Love, the subject most widely covered by philosophers and
poets, the supposedly ‘divine’ emotion… as we grow older ‘love’ steps out of
the fairy tales, puts on a business suit, does its calculations of rights,
wrongs, races, religion, color, nationality, status … differences, differences,
differences… the minus and plus, love does its math,
who you are allowed to love and who you cannot. The differences weigh more than the passion, the loyalty, the affection, the holiness of love.
All your childhood years, they
keep filling your head with the equality, the diversity, the rights… and once
you grow up they let you out in a world where your race is rubbed on your face
at each and every step and your gender becomes a ‘product’ to sell. Every door
you enter opens into a market.
Religion, “the faith” supposed to
make one humble and strong becomes the ultimate weakness. Explain every action
to the worldly gods… every day a judgment day.
They keep nurturing your wings
for decades, they teach you how to fly and once you are ready, they break the
news “the wings are yours but the sky is not”.
I question the freedom … I
question the freedom of the free beings, of the Free State and the free world.
I lit the fire and the heat is black. It is 3:41 am and I hear some one knocking at my door. I know it is Harry and I know he was right.
You have touched reality in its entire form...love this
ReplyDeleteone of those days when I say 'I don't want to live on this planet anymore' :p
ReplyDeleteHey... one of those days when I feel i need you to write more :)
ReplyDeletethanks babe ! that means alot to me.
ReplyDeletelike i always told you, your fictional writing is more powerful than your poems. You should consider writing a novel.
ReplyDeletelike i always told you, your fictional writing is more powerful than your poems. You should seriously consider writing a novel at some point in your life. Preferably when Harry is awake at night, that brings the best out of you.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mani !
ReplyDeleteI considered writing a novel but than I am certain of my future, based on what became of all the others who touched subjects involving their versions of 'Harry'.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Refer to Blasphemy law and the "Fatwa system" of our "Shariah court" :) but on the positive side, Yes, you will get my acoustic guitar as per my will !