She lifts her head from the computer screen
A quiet feel of satisfaction,
The day has been productive.
She spreads her arms, and feel the tensed muscles relaxing.
Stands up from the uncomfortable chair.
She does not care for such trivialities.
Nothing like work to keep her engrossed.
It keeps her mind off from other stuff.
Stuff that is better kept away from mind.
The healing has taken a long time.
It has been a painful process.
But she has learnt her lesson.
She has recovered fully.
Or atleast she thinks she has.
She blames herself.
An unforgivable mistake she accuses.
I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have.
I’d been right all along.
Nothing is love.
Its all an illusion.
The heart whispers back,
“Didn’t the illusion seem to be,
Turning quite real?
Hadn’t you started believing
That there might be a truth to the fairy tales, after all?”
A retort quietens the poor little thing.
The tear-stained pillow pleads for mercy.
Red eyes tired from crying beg for relief.
A scathing remark from the exhausted and overworked brain.
And the heart bows down dejected.
“But still…”
A deep breath, she assumes control of herself.
Gathers her patience, and comforts the poor little thing.
Brings back the smile, brings back the bliss.
A talent she has not lost.
A skill that hid her all the while.
A smile, a cuppa coffee, and an agenda in her mind.
This has been her survival kit for survival in this cold, hard, hard world.
She does not need them anymore.
She is independent.
She is doing what she does best.
She is being herself.
And she loves it.
And in the early morning,
On a nest high up a tree,
The sparrow prepares to spread its wings to take flight.
She hesitates for a moment.
A tiny pang of regret on leaving the nest,
Her refuge for all the life she had lived so far.
The regret is soon replaced
By the excitement of conquering new worlds,
The challenge of taking upon dangers unknown.
The fear of flying plays in the back of her mind.
Whether her tiny wings would be able to carry her safely.
Whether she would be able to fly.
She glances down.
The ground seems to be a mile away.
She takes a deep breath.
Closes her eyes, trusts her heart.
And jumps as high as she can.
Spreads out her arms as far as they go…
And she begins falling…
Falling fast, gathering speed, till she disappears from sight.
And then the sound of loud tweets sing to the ear,
And she soars up and beyond her alcove.
Circles the tree once,
Says her thanks,
Bids her goodbyes.
And flapping her wings,
Rises higher and out of sight.
She is flying high,
The wind is kissing her wings,
The sky is beckoning to her.
In the world ahead,
The fear of the unknown awaits,
Not the security of the nest.
But she doesn’t mind.
She has past that phase.
She is now being herself.
And she loves it.
No comments:
Post a Comment