I know someday you will return
Weary, torn, lost, bewildered.
Your eyes deceiving your heart while you would fake a smile
For I know or maybe knew what you used to be.
The withering skin, the greying hair won't cloak your inner self,
For your heart, a radiant one can't age, can it?
You would plead, you would moan
Tears would brim, words would get lost in silence.
A deafening silence, which would choke us.
I want you to know, I know it all, I knew it all
So, please don't return if you even want to
For, no one is waiting for you.
For, the road that lead to my heart has long been trampled
And I have stopped hurting myself, I want you to know this.
For, things change and when they change, they change for good.
"Read between the lines", I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am, would you please elaborate? ", I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
Comments
Post a Comment