what if every scarlet shade around the sky was a mere sum of every bruise your heart clotted with time? the sky stretched wide monotonously, lasting miles and miles above my hair cursing the left over zephyr dusting them off on loop. it's crinkled across the horizon, experimenting with blends fusing along the sleepy sun. the blind loathing creeped against the walls of my veins, clearly revisiting the catastrophe i once dwelled in. letting go of every cloudy heights, i dropped down the narrow slides to my puzzled home. i stopped knotting the ends of the strings lying on my bed every other night. they stay rotten now, and reek of the words i forget to use in my poems.
Someday, twenty or thirty years from now, if we meet... again... possibly... I'll tell you, how you won. That time really drains life out of breaths. And miracles don't happen. That dreams don't always come true and mountains break as well. I'll tell you how moon is just a facade. And there's no silver lining to any dark cloud. They rain... and that's just it. I'll tell you of mirage and all other illusions I chased all my life. I'll tell you, you were right. And I was naive. That fairy tales and forevers don't exist. That love is just another addiction, like alcohol and drugs. That feelings don't matter. Suppressing them is the best one can do. I'll tell you all that I went through... alone. And I'll tell you all this in silence. I'll tell you through eyes. Because I know, years later... I'll be way too tired for words. I won't be the hopeless romantic that I am today. I'll be a realist, hardened at the surface, broken at my core. I'll tell you that goodbyes are the only permanence in this transient world. That not everything that happens is for the good. Sometimes people come and leave, things happen, not the way they should. I'll scream darkness from the midst of all the light that'd surround me. I know, I'll tell you. I simply know.
Do you think caged birds know, the mountains exist... or that sound echoes in breathtaking valleys. That pebbles create ripples or that kids play and swing on trunk and roots of banyan tree. Do you think caged birds have ever seen... the friendly gestures of a dolphin, or the dance of a peacock... when the clouds roar before rains begin. Do you think caged birds wonder if there's a world outside of those bars. Do you think caged birds know, what those wings are for. That there are other birds like them, soaring high in the sky... singing, searchin, hunting... fighting, building, breaking... humming lullabies at night. Do you think caged birds desire more from life... or are they content in the safety and comfort of the bars behind which they reside. Do you think caged birds are resentful or grateful, for all that their caretaker provides. Do they know they have a limited amount of time... and with every sunset in the cage, they're moving close to losing so many fulfilling flights. Do you think caged birds wonder at the changing colors of the sky or maybe wish to talk to other birds when they see them collecting straw and grain every sunrise. Maybe caged birds don't think at all. Maybe they submit their identity and embrace the grim reality... that in the name of love humans do strange things... chain and cage the object of desire... to hold them close, hold them safe... even if against, the wish of the one they love. Maybe caged birds know, humans are insecure. Maybe to errors of understanding and fallacies of human mind, caged birds willingly supplicate their entire lives.
I have never been, and probably never will be one of those spirited girls you've been so used to seeing. The ones who're confident about their decisions. The ones who wear the latest trend and go to movies with friends and lie to their parents so that they can go on a mini vacation with their boyfriend. The girls who know precisely what lipstick to wear, which foundation to choose. I second guess my decisions on most days. Even before beginning to read a book... I think, again and again and again. I find myself struggling to choose the middle path, that'd help me put myself as a priority and also not hurt anyone unnecessarily. I don't know makeup. But I'm learning. Not because society expects me to. Simply because I like it. Some days when I don't even have to go anywhere, I get all dressed up and put on my favorite earrings, the nicest tint of pink in my collection of lipsticks... take a few selfies... and then go to sleep. I find it hard to lie... especially to people I love. So a secret mini vacation might not be possible. You probably wouldn't feel comfortable showing me off to your friends. I'm boring... that's how most people would define me. I know I wouldn't find their jokes funny. I don't know the latest celebrity gossip... or of cricket clubs and football leagues. There won't be any common interests and I'd end up either stifling myself or annoying them to death... with my measured presence. And trust me on this, I'd not let any sexist remark pass by. I'd either expect an apology or I'd leave. Making the situation awkward for you and your friends as well. So I understand your reluctance. I understand this hesitation. I know it's difficult to choose something that appears dull but glows on the inside... over things that glitter and catch attention, in the blink of an eye.