Wounded Wonder

The betraying heart needs not a marker
Your precious self reveals itself to the careful observer
Your faltering feelings, the truth behind your actions is no longer veiled by adoration–
Bared, naked under the blazing sunlight of warm pre-monsoon days,
I see more clearly than before.
Here, removed from all familiarities, away from all dear to me, I see you for what you are: purposely hidden, always outside of reach by choice:
This condition, your choice, your hope, your way of holding in place a potential–a not fully determined potential, for your eyes, glossed over by indecision, lay transfixed on your present and not truly focused on your future,
Between yourself and me, there is hardly any difference: the most significant being perhaps that the object of our heart’s deepest desires is not the same person.
Mine is clearly you, but yours is not me.
There is another who holds your heart enthralled, and I have no desire to be second,
No desire to be the best choice because there isn’t any other available.
I don’t exist for fun only and no reward for my efforts.
I’m no longer able to live life that way,
As the years tick, tick, tick, passing hushedly, faith and hope fall into the wayside, the present you is important, the present me too.
Plans must be solidified before time runs out. You must be relegated to the tiny box as your surmounting uncertainty is undesirable to me. I must make my heart strong, so the wound inflicted by parting ways does not prevent me from living my life–
This time with you wholly absent, existing only as a flittering thought and no longer a lingering “what if.”
Your choice is made.
Now, I’ll make mine:
No more waiting, no more hope, no more what ifs.
Were it going to happen, it would have by now–
No more stalling, no more emotional voids or vacuums,
As once I did before, I will let go again.
This isn’t happening a second time. Thoughts of you and your memories no longer will pull my heart to you.
Now is time to turn into a stone like I always should have.
If you truly wanted me, nothing would stop you.
If I truly were your desire, nothing would keep you away.
Thus, I am none of these things:
There is for you no life with me, no children;
I am no more than fleeting satisfaction That can’t give you what you want because you’re convinced that your desires can’t be fulfilled here with me, so they won’t be, especially not by me.

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About FreeFlowingThoughts

All of the writing is original and some of the drawings are too. I do these as a form of stress relief and to share my work with others. मैं पल दो पल का शायर हूँ / पल दो पल मेरी कहानी है / पल दो पल मेरी हँसती है / पल दो पल मेरी जवानी है / मैं पल दो पल का शायर हूँ...मुझ से पहले कितने शायर आये और आकर चले गये / कुछ आहें भरकर लौट गये / कुछ नग़मे गाकर चले गये / वे भी एक पल का हिस्सा थे / मैं भी एक पल का हिस्सा हूँ / कल तुम से जुदा हो जाऊँगा तो आज तुम्हारा हिस्सा हूँ / मैं पल दो पल का शायर हूँ...कल और आयेंगे नग़मों की खिलती कलियाँ चुननेवाले / मुझ से बेहतर कहनेवाले / तुझ से बेहतर सुननेवाले / कल कोई मुझ को याद करे / क्यूँ कोई मुझ को याद करे? / मसरूफ़ ज़माना मेरे लिये क्यूँ वक्त अपना बरबाद करे? / मैं पल दो पल का शायर हूँ। (कभी कभी से १९७६) I am a poet for a moment or two/My story is for a moment or two/My laughter is for a moment or two/My youth is for a moment or two/I am a poet for a moment or two...Before me, many poets came and left/Some were burdened with sighs and returned from where they came/Some sang songs before leaving/They were part of a moment/I, too, am part of a moment/Tomorrow I may be separated from you/But today I am a part of you/I am a poet for a moment or two...Tomorrow more song will come like blooming flower buds to choose from/There may be better storytellers than me/There may be better listeners than you/Tomorrow someone may remember me/Why would anyone remember me?/Why would this busy world waste time for my sake?/I am (only) a poet for a moment or two. (From Kabhie Kabhie 1976) [Translation is not word-for-word.]
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