Dread

I could hear his tormented voice
its breaking into a wail
pain, anguish, agony

Tear-streaked face
Innocence; questions in eyes
frantic attempts in sheer fear

Giving in, I console
Brazen, insensitive hope
blinded by some positivity

Justifying statements
His plans are the pest
there’s prosperity even in the loss

My audacity, I forget
his pain wasn’t some easy trial
death staring him in the eye

The dread of losing his father!

Replaced?

Everyone has phases in life. Childhood, school, tuitions, college … Every phase has different people associated with it. Different bonds, different relations. Expectations. Aspirations.

And somehow sharing a part of life turns insignificant when a new phase is introduced. Somehow everything associated with a phase is let go. Maybe to make a place for new things. Maybe it is an escape way… who knows!

The only remnant we let ourselves have is a piece of paper signifying the time we spent, toiling.

Why was it so difficult to give people some space in life? To give time to people we once so cherished? Who meant the world to us at some point of time. Are our schedules actually so busy? Do we care so less?

From another perspective, we hold images of people we have met. Some memories. Some traits. And over time we tend to idealise them. Maybe we are afraid we won’t find them the same once we reconnect. Maybe they refuse to recognise… Maybe the place we had in their lives has been replaced. Maybe we fear the change in them.

Maybe…

Final Step

Many times our dreams, our goals are just one step away from us. We just have to extend our hand and grab it. But more often than not, we are afraid of thatfinal step. That last brick in the wall.

Though we say we desire so and so but we never really yearn for it. Because if we did, we would grab it even if it were miles afar.

It is this last step that discloses whether that dream, that goal is really sought. Whether we really crave for it, yearn it.

All excuses, delays, time, blah blah come forth when we do it half hearted, as a compulsion. Else nothing would or could stop us.

On another level, maybe we are afraid to complete the journey. Once this dream, this goal is achieved, what would life be like. There won’t be this goal to work for. Would life lose its meaning? Would there be nothing else to look forward to? Would it be the end of everything? Would it invoke the feelings of lost?