Sometimes I sit down to think, if I'm satisfied with my living
If my life would have differed, If God was a little forgiving?
I ask Him why I should be happy, when all my dreams he tore
Why should I be satisfied, when I know I could have had more?
I stand up in anger from my chair, wanting to try if I could sense
my way around my room for once, even if it was false pretence.
I was clumsy, disorganised... like a bird who's wings never flapped
But I was desperate, to shake off the feeling... of knowing I'm handicapped.
Every day I wished I was born, with a pair of eyes to glimpse
at all the things I've heard about, away from this eternal eclipse.
God knows how many times I think, about all the closed choices
about never before seen colours, the faces behind all these voices.
I try to envision being able to walk, without having to use this cane
I try to perceive what It'd be like, to look at nights kissed by the rain.
I wonder if I'll ever be able to see, all the food and drinks I savour
If I'd be able to do things on my own, instead of asking for favours.
The heart cries for this and more, not a single day can I breathe
God punish me if I'm lying, or if this has any undertone of greed.
But you know what puzzles me? Sometimes I think I'm blessed.
That I don't have to see my own kin, when they are sad or depressed.
It’s because I can't see I think, I've appreciated everything double fold
I'm happy hearing the rain, feeling the sun on my skin when I'm cold.
I'm grateful that I can't observe, all that is the Devil's property
The ugly face of terrorism or war, and the sadness that is poverty.
Sometimes I confuse myself too... What is it that I'd rather hold?
The ability to open my eyes at last, or keep them as they are... closed?
There's a rift inside to what I want, am I with this blindness, gifted?
Or perhaps I'm learning to live, until this infinite darkness is lifted.
ReplyDeleteIlluminating would be the first term I associate this with. Kudos! =]
Optimism has never been more than delusion to me, so I decipher delusion out of your protagonist too. It is like closed eyes could make any difference, I don't think they do. Now then, you write poems like these as simply as one can, but they are always astoundingly beautiful, positive.
Cheers!
Well no matter how dark the storm, the sun shines through the clouds again. :) Optimism is an ever green and vital process... makes misery a lot easier to live with doesn't it? :)
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ReplyDeleteI never really tried being one, optimism makes you theatrical a lot, you see. :P
Well do try it.. :) And being theatrical isn't all that bad. A little bit of acting here and there helps. :P
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ReplyDeleteLast time I tried, I became me. Now I might as well not hope, there is no bigger bitch I know. So, theater is terrifying. :DD
I Have a blind friend and I read this out to her. And she was amazed at how brilliantly you could peep into the psyche of her kind...well captured!!!
ReplyDeleteAgree with Kankshita. Illuminating is the word, for the way you've systematically shed light on your protagonist's desires, hopefulness and then, the 'glass-half-full' way of thinking he/she resorts to.
ReplyDeleteAnd the genuineness of the confusion that the person faces, about his/her purpose in life, is heartrending!
@Bhavana: Life's all about choices, some which unfortunately, are not ours to make. The best way to deal with devastation is finding light when there seems to be none. It's a dilemma I'm unwilling to face to be very honest, I wasn't very comfortable writing this poem down..
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