Dear mom, 15 years ago you held the tiny, sleeping me in your arms, close to your warm chest, ever so delicately and tenderly. You said I would grow to your expectations into a beautiful young lady, a woman of worth and a girl who would chase her dreams. You said you would bring me up to be a well mannered teen... a perfect youngster who would put up a bright smile on her face. Here now 15 years hence, things turned upside down. Everything, everything changed. I'm not the pretty young lady you'd expect me to be, nor am I a girl who chases after her dreams. I'm no more a perfect youngster, no, not the one with a bright smile always. No I'm not even a woman of worth. But everything has a reason and every life has a story... So do I. Maybe, if you didn't say that I'd look prettier if I was skinny, I would have been a woman of worth. Maybe if you'd let me hang out with my friends and let me make the little life choices I know I am capable of making, I'd have a real bright smile on my face. Maybe if you told me that perfect is on the inside, I would have turned out to be a perfect youngster. Maybe, if you told me that I could be anything and if you believed in me, I would have followed my dreams. Over time, my dreams faded. They didn't break due to something that happened just once, they simply faded because my dreams were gradually erased, when I realised that I didn't turn out to be the perfect youngster with a bright smile or a woman of worth. I wish I could be the perfect woman with a perfect smile for once, but now there's a frightened soul inside me, who's afraid of doing anything in life because everything she tried doing, simply faded. She's afraid...... what if like all her dreams, she fades away too?
When sunflowers fall off my eyes in a slither motion with the wave of air floating it more high, I remember the twin siblings who played in the swing in the row following each other their hair stuck together with a little sunflower in the middle. And the couple who hastily married last summer their banquet was filled with sunflower, So many to count in number. The fallen sunflower goes somewhere or other falling its own destiny unlike the unknown wanderer and finds a room of its own to call home or a place of work just before it decays pale and dark and loose its allure, It concludes its honour And leaves seeds to proffer the oil which is vital to others.
And the last one I remember in the middle of the pages was breathing its last of breath while reading Aristotle and Homer Ah! the poor sunflower .
If I were to disappear like darkness into the night If I were to disappear like a raindrop into an ocean If I were to disappear like a shooting star would anybody notice my pen being lonely
If I were to crumble to pieces like a dried leaf allowing myself to lay beneath your feet would you try to piece me back or let me lay in defeat
If I were to shine like every other star could you point to me with conviction or would I blend in without any uniqueness
These insecurities of mine are fleeting for I'll disappear into waters of the drowning letting myself sink into the depths of the night I'll disappear like a shooting star burning above the earth in a blaze of self destruction then maybe I'll finally be remembered fondly by you
This poem is about a world which is so densely populated but still it appears that it's so empty. It's hard to find people whom you can call your home. Its a colossal disappointment to realize that the concept of 'belongingness' is an illusion. But still there is hope when you start thinking from other dimensions, when you start considering oneself as enough to fill that void. Nobody can be more close to you or understand you than your own self. Falling in love with oneself, appreciating oneself when we accomplish something, consoling oneself when things don't turn around,being one's friend and one's family. This looks kind of being alone, but I don't think it can be termed as loneliness, because you still have you, and that is priceless.