I‘m wandering the house this week; my bare feet, gathering dust with each step, and my hair a bird’s nest. It all reminds me of this excerpt from a poem I wrote two years ago.
Another lost hope, another fallen tear,
Thinking of the one, no longer near
Hair unsecured, feet bare,
No one to love, none to care.
My carefully constructed to do list which includes two guest posts and a journaling of Noman Ali Khan’s podcasts lies abandoned, devoid of attention, a tattered fragment of yellowing parchment. And realization hits me how I’m letting it all pass by, biting my nails to oblivion over the stress, I'm only intensifying the rumination, while the girl down the street reads yet another book I was supposed to have read last week, my competition gets featured on Food gawker while the rejection tab in my account could well be seen from Mars. And yet another novice writer gets published. All that I’ve left is a green-eyed monster that counts reasons why the people who achieved what it eyed weren’t even that good.
I have felt unsure of my emotions for quite some time, I feel like a prisoner of mind, without the security of provisions, the master of an unsure heart. The attentions of one so sought after one minute are a nuisance the next as the damsel figures out what appeared to her, a cloud nine, it was just a deflated balloon of discontentment.
This confession, a mere realization of my feelings has left me ashen faced with goose bumps lining my skin. I gather my limbs into a ball, and burrow further within- a darkening eclipse to the socio-political drama being played out in the country, that has me meditating every day.
No sympathies please. Just love.
I may disappear from the blog for some time. Till then Au Revoir.