Monday, July 6, 2009


It was neither good,
Nor it was bad.
I was not on the groove,
I was not even sad.

The way he touched!
The way he moved!
The way he clutched!
The way he stood!

Didn't make any difference.
Lying there like a doll,
I was just showing my indifference,
in ever way he wanted to crawl.

I don't have any obsessiveness,
Nor do I have any possessiveness.
If he is not or if he is mine,
either way with me its fine.

Its not just about him,
With everything related to me.
It hardly matters
What around me gathers.

I tried to behave like a prude.
Learning to say "no",
I learned to be rude.
And always I let it go.

Did I not react,
Because I love him?
Or is it the fact,
That I am ready to leave him.

The reason yet to be explored.
Searching it I often get bored.
Again getting apathetic.
And to myself I am never sympathetic.

Why is it growing so fast,
In my life will it ever last?
With this lifestyle I need a break,
Because everything in my eyes are fake.

Is something missing,
Or I am just satisfied?
Why am I reminiscing,
The moments I got criticized.

Its hard to live,
but its harder to die
I have nothing to give
except my cry.

With no purpose in life,
I am going on living it.
I hardly remember what turns me on,
And what turns me off.

I don't feel alone,
Nor I feel affectionately loved.
To this feeling I am always prone,
As if I am imprisoned.

If I don't understand myself,
How can I expect any other one to.
If I don't love myself,
How can I wish some one else will do.

It is the passion,
That is missing.
There is no compassion,
That's what is pissing.

My smile is lost.
My eyes are stained with tears.
I am ready to get my life back at any cost.
If I could ever overcome my fears.

Though I don't know what are my fears.
And for what reason my eyes are flooding me with tears.
Life is like a bird, you hold it tightly, it dies.
You hold it lightly it flies.
And as for myself I don't know if it died,
Or it flew aside.

Life sometimes becomes so selfish that it wants everything
And while trying for everything we miss something.
That is worth every thing.
I guess I missed something as well as everything.
While trying for nothing.

I don't want to hurt myself.
I don't want to love myself.
I don't want to caress myself
I don't want to hate myself.

Perfection is just an illusion,
From which I am suffering.
The only solution is seclusion
And I can get rid of this occurring.

I don't know,
Whats wrong with me?
What I am now,
And what I used to be!

Have to live as long as god wants me to.
Just waiting to die.
Will suffer every punishment, feeling blue.
And soon I will say good bye.

P.S. I have written this poem because the girl characterized in the poem was wandering around my mind ever since I can remember. I read a story somewhere (I don't remember), where this girl faced a lot of problems, problems of every kind and which are out of even our imagination. She went on living being indifferent, very rarely she cried but every time, she cried, her cry was just showing that she is pretending to be indifferent but being indifferent about anything in real life is just near to impossible. And it hurts a lot sub-consciously. Her story and her condition appealed me to the bottom of my heart. I don't know If I am able to put her feelings in a good way but whatever it just touched my heart. I don't know the solution about her problems or anything else I just know one thing that I have developed a soft corner for her thought it does not make any difference to her.
P.S. She brought the longest poem out of me, I have ever written. Thanks to you girl.


Meera said...

:( supb' while wrtng i felt itz wrtn' 4 me (i mean itz remind'ng me my past nd present)