Scared? Scarred.

With terror in bold,

With love striked out,

Chauvinism italicized,

Like the sound of a whip underlined twice,

“Sudha!”, he screamed,

While she hid in the closet,

The one behind the big storage room,

At the rear end of their ugly mansion

Which led to the open, suffocating verandah

Where hopes and dreams lay with the dead in the tomb,

Garnished with flowers of gold.

 

Advertisements

Is no pain my pain?

Maybe my pain is staying alone.
Waiting, is that a pain too?
Maybe it’s not a heartbreak,
But being too happy being single,
Is being happy a pain too?
Maybe it’s not refusal, rejection,
But never being in love altogether?
Maybe it’s not growing grey with fear of death or losing power,
But being fearless since forever?
Or maybe this quest for pain,
Is the pain to be in no pain my pain?