Friday, 19 April 2013

The Locked Door


Sometimes your hand moves with a will of its own. During such times, letting go becomes the natural course of action. One day I resigned myself to my hand and this is what it wrote seeking its emancipation. I do not remember if my eyes were open or half closed, I didn't force myself to think and obstruct its flow of thoughts. But when I stopped to write, I looked at the watch, and realized only twenty minutes had passed. 

I hope you like 'The Locked Door' as much as I do. Shalom.


Courtesy: Frannie Frou Frou/Flickr


I wish to be hidden in my own world
My own home
No noise, just sounds
Where sounds manifest silence
And ride the waves of silence.

The tinkling bells, the crisp loaf of bread
The rustle of autumn leaves and the crunch of grass beneath your naked feet
Sounds form part of a silent world
It is a world of myriad dreams
Where every action is magnified
So clear and bright, brimming with light
You feel each breath you take
Those fleeting drifting mists which keep you alive
And all that goes out becoming a part of the universe,
Remember what has gone will come back to you for good or worse.

You see the colours?
Their myriad shapes?
Your fingers sift and comb through them,
Scattering the hues in a rainbow wave.
Let not the joys spoil you,
Look beyond and you will see ‘Her’ bright eyes.
These shades form the face of someone I know-
The timeless countenance of my long forgotten mother.

I wish to come home
Bow my head,
Kneeling down, tired and down
Take me in your arms and hold me against your bosom,
Your child is home,
At last.

My tears roll
One by one
And they form an unseen naked pool.
Deep in my heart I know where I belong,
But I have to be strong enough to be alone.

Even as my eyes are closed
My senses attuned to you
Oh yes! I can smell the grass;
And that wisp of smoke, coming from the chimney,
Bringing the scents of home and hearth.

I wish to go back home
This is not where I belong
I am mayhap tired
Of this life or perchance I still have some to go on.

My tears roll one by one
And my heart yearns
Open that wooden door and let me in when I knock
My soul knows the path
It will come to you
It shall drag my body from this world to yours and mine,
Where finally I will sit under the open skies
And my spirit shall find fulfillment dancing in the rain.

And then I will look at you,
Look in your eyes.
For my heart is big
No! Not big.
Words in themselves are mere containers.
My heart is not a vessel.
It holds nothing,
My heart is open and unbound.

When I will look at you with my heart unbound
We would have crossed the boundary set by words to express and understand
The joy that will fill you
Will be a sweet pleasure,
How much you contain is after all your measure.

My tears have dried,
I know it’s abrupt,
I haven’t the time,
I am locking my door,
Will come to you when I am strong enough,
My time will come too,
Wait for me,
Please wait for me...

4 comments:

  1. Oh my God.... you are awesome!! And you haven't lost your touch. Not a bit... Only getting better with time. I'm a fan of your writing...!

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    Replies
    1. It is because of encouragement from friends like YOU that I remain motivated :) Thank you. Your words mean so much!! Blessed be.

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  2. well composed, transformation of sheer emotions dull and sombre...

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