By Shruthi Puthran
And then..
One blithe morning
thorn birds started singing again,
I stepped out of my home
and the world, like the wrong pair of shoes
didn't fit me anymore.
Wounded up
everytime I tried to walk
Thus,
I was beguiled
by the things I own
that were never mine.
It was all a dream in a
delusional world
for I never slept.
Everything around me
was fading away,
the people I met,
the lies I lived,
the existence I believed to be myself!
Like a meandering stream
I wandered,
dawdled...
For life is all about
attending your own funeral
watching a part of you die..
I did too..
Sat there all night
to witness myself
surrender to the fire,
to accept
that before I can live,
a part of me has to die
and I should let it go..
Let go...
the lies I lived
the existence I believed
may all become
the very soil I came from,
leaving behind only the ashes
that spewed with people who existed
only cos I imagined..
Next morning
I walked back home,
took a much needed
warm shower,
Wearing my new shoes,
I bought from the old store,
tried to step out into the new world
but then
I was hurt again,
It didn't fit me anymore..
It's not the change that scares us
but the remnant ashes we bring home
That we thought belonged to us.
And then
One blithe morning
thorn birds started singing again