The complex nature of life
May be attributed to
Our assumption that reality is
How we imagine it to be.

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In darkness' deadly embrace,
Be the firefly
That illuminates its own path
Albeit faintly,
And not a housefly
Hastening
To its own demise,
Clinging onto an incandescent bulb.

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On some wintry evenings
I like to walk down the street
Towards my favourite lake,
Hoping to catch the sun
Before it goes off to bed.

However fast I walk,
Darkness descends midway,
Swallowing one tree at a time
Till I can no longer see
The road that lies ahead.

Then I turn back hoping to return
But the path I have already walked
Is no longer visible either.
It is just me, wrapped around
In a cold blanket of fading dusk.

In that moment of seclusion,
I realize how helpless I would be
Without a sense of direction
Or a destination to be driven towards,
If the complete isolation I crave
Is ever granted.

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The pursuit of perfection
Often leaves us more discontented
Than we should ideally be.

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Anonymity allows you to explore
Your own multi-facetedness,
Thus turning out to be
A blessing in disguise indeed.

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The pen once stilled by tiring days
Now looks forward to more,
For all the joys do end one day
Leaving you blank and sore.
The emptiness rises within
Filled only by its kind,
Extracting what makes your core,
Blocks all routes to unwind.
Then you need to claw your way
Out of the far and deep,
That which crouches to engulf
The precious dreams you keep.

All that makes you feel at home
Are never there for long,
They float past like sweet interludes
Scattered in a sad song.
That's why all your fantasies
Need nurturing with care
For those are your happy places
When no one else is there.

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Subconsciously, it is harder to trace
A perfect spiral going inward
Than the one uncoiling.
Maybe that explains our natural tendency
To let matters spiral out of control than
To bring them onto a converging path.

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Often I take pleasure
In solitary walks
Along streets dim-lit,
Stepping in and out of shadows
In search of a perfect fit
That would shield yet not engulf,
Walk along, not back and forth.
However hard I try,
The gap is never bridged
For the shifters entice me
To go close enough
Before they flit into another form
As distant as it could get.
A futile chase later
I reconcile myself to the fact
That shadows are as illusive
As their flesh and blood counterparts.
You could go on
Playing hide and seek
Looking for the right company,
But then it will only take you longer
To get back home.

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It is difficult to settle in
But less so than to fathom
When to be on the move again.
Overstaying your tenure
Often leads to disbalanced endings,
Wringing out all you have within
Yet failing to evoke the same response
From what you had been clinging to,
Leaving you quite unsure
Of what it all could have meant.

This lesson may not be grasped
With the very first instance
But the sooner you learn,
The lesser your heart will break
The next time you need
To walk away from the picture,
When you are not required anymore.

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Some people have the tendency
To care for every tiny thing in the world,
Irrespective of whether it would affect them.
More often than not,
They are misunderstood
As being pretentious or interfering
Or at best, annoying.

Most people in their vicinity
Fail to understand why another
Would want to be concerned
Without an ulterior motive
And eye them with suspicion,
While the rest, sick of not being left alone,
Wish to be rid of them
As early as possible.

Such apparently generous souls
Are usually doomed to live miserable,
For their good wishes
Are generally mistaken to be binding ties
That all yearn to break free from.
Banished repeatedly
From the lives they would want to safeguard,
After a point, these outcasts
Have only themselves to live with,
But by then, they have learnt a lesson or two
And finally do not care about anything anymore.

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