Skip to main content

Transition to adulthood

As the darkness of the night
creeps into a part of the globe,
the creatures are let to drowse
and fly in their dream lands
where there is glory, there is fame,
there is happiness, there is light.

But in the real world at night,
there is nothing but silence,
the calm and fresh breeze,
many thoughts to race upon,
much more to mumble along,

and sometimes you could
even catch a silly tune,
that brings teenage days
in your heart, a tear or two to shed,
upon the absence of freedom,
upon the presence of bondage,
upon the missed romance,
and old excuses that were
once effective to free yourself

away from burden,
away from work,
away from pain,
misunderstanding, suffering,

the tiny things
that you felt immensely
happy upon,
The pounding laughter
even for nothing could make
you feel a hero then,
but now a clumsy clown,
with less of smiles,
and more commitments,
with less time to relish
and more to make money,
to grow competitive,
to feel jealous, mistaken,
to feel left alone,
to feel good-for-nothing,
and to be miserable.

There was a time when
losing in a game of squash
did'nt mean much to you,
but now, losing a moment
of time for your loved one
impacts your heart with sadness.

There was a time when,
despite your mother's call
you played along till dark,
not feeling a tinge of tiresomeness.
But now, after an hour's work,
you feel weakened and tired.

There was a time when,
you would see the bird's flight
and follow it thus spreading
your arms wide, running along merrily,
but now, do you ever even
look up to the sky?

See how the transformation
takes place,
from small to huge,
from affection to hatred,
from friendship to jealousy,
from love to lust,
from happiness to misery,
from childhood to adult hood,
Is this the way to mature,
to grow,to shine and to thrive?

Comments

  1. definetly if some one has grown this way then he must be an immature person. He is grown for sure but only physically not mentally. Very touching one.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Speak your mind

Popular posts from this blog

Getting back to being Ms. Beautiful braid!

It was the time when my mom used to struggle for time. She would wake up early in the morning with her hair as beautifully braided as ever and I would be shook awake to have that traditional head massage with a mixture of hot coconut and castor oil with the extracts of sun-dried hibiscus, henna and fenugreek. After I sleepily shampoo my hair followed by the massage, my mom would pat it dry with a thin towel and would carefully part my hair into sections to try different types of braids on my curly but soft hair.

As she tamed my dense and curly hair into braids of every possible beauty, I would sit there bored with the palm of my hands supporting my cheek. In spite of lack of time, my mother made it a point to wake up ten minutes early everyday just to make time for the wonderful braids that her fingers weaved with my hair. After she finished with the styling, I would gaze at my own self in the mirror and brim at her with pride on my face.

I would say occasionally, "Maa, you can b…

FOUND

                                                                    Image: Internet
If you had missed the previous chapters of the story: Click here Chapter 1Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3


It was the fall again, they had gone for a stroll outside the university campus into the beautiful park where snowy trees surrounded the white spread and there were very few passers-by due to the freezing chill.
The two of them hovered around enjoying the beauty carpeted around them. Maureen had already gone down, working her gloved hands into the snowy layers. She started rolling a huge ice ball with a grin on her pink face. Steve looked at her dazed by the tinkle of her eyes and the jingle that her laughter spread in his heart.  The moist wind ruffled her blond hair, some of which fell onto her face like a wave onto the shores.
Steve just stood there with his hands folded, his lips curved into a mesmerizing smile and his eyebrows were arched in sheer amazement of what was happening to him that moment.   He felt…

Being humane

Every dawn dooms with wail


I never opine but in my daze,

For I am human, humane.

Image courtesy: Internet