Skip to main content

Cup of tea

Be his 'cup of tea' the world announced,
My hena smeared hands decided my fate.

I was a butterfly, wild, untamed.
Who ran like the wind, even faster than the wind.
But, my legs got shackled
My run gave away to timid steps
My dreams evaporated with the smoke that went curling from the hearth
His 'cup of tea' was what I learning to become.

I wish someone had said, it's OK to not be anyone's 'cup of tea'
I wish someone had said, it's OK to be untamed
I wish someone had said, it's OK to live your way
But no one did, and I didn't dare
I let myself die each day, each night.
The veil covered by swollen heart but I felt naked within
My wishes got choked in the dense kitchen air
My essence got lost in time
I became everything that wasn't me.
I finally became his 'cup of tea' .

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"My love is enough for both of us"

"My love is enough for both of us", she often felt those words ring in her heart. She finally had understood that life wouldn't always follow her designs. That people are meant to leave but their memories won't. She often had wondered how someone could love her to such an extent when that person had always known that she wouldn't reciprocate those feelings. How could a person stand by her when she always acted as a fleeting shadow. She never had given hope for she knew the pain of dejection but he kept hoping like a hopeless vagabond. How she wished that he would some day hate her enough to let go. She devised ways to free him from this web, she acted cold, turned indifferent, did everything he detested and she finally saw some changes. It was a relief, he finally seemed to take hold of his life. She could see him grow responsible. He finally it seemed was learning to love himself. Phone calls died, meetings subsided, they become known strangers. All this while ...
2 comments
Read more

Life on wheels

The one thing that I always had dreamt of as a kid was to have a caravan that could take me to places.I always wanted a gypsy styled life. The idea itself mesmerized me to the extent that I kept dreaming of it the whole time not even realising how it was time which kept on rolling but I stood exactly at the same place, my dreams could never concretize. What was laughed at as a childish game was so important to me that I keep doodling it in my memory till now. I see a meadow, lush green with those small daffodils growing by, perhaps Wordsworth's daffodils! Then I see a girl, her wild unkept hair sailing in the gentle breeze. She has a smile which speaks of solitude, and her heart , well that's swelling with happiness as he looks at her caravan, after all she finally has a life on wheels. What more could she wish for, what more  can anyone wish for? It's not always that we get to live a life we conceived as a kid, life keeps on deciding our track. From what we liked doing...
2 comments
Read more

The dead old tree

As I walked on the road unaware of where the world was headed towards, something caught my attention. It was a dead tree standing erect by the road. What interested me was the way it had been dying a slow death whereas the world around him was yet so green. My eyes lingered towards it's branches, there I saw leaves caught in transition, they were neither green to contain life nor brown to talk of despair. The colour was a shade of yellow with specks of dull green . Did the green in them yet had hope to continue being alive? I asked myself. Then I saw something which moved my heart for the tree, it was home to birds. Little chirpy birds seeked shelter in its dead trunk. How strange life could be, that tree housed life yet couldn't forsee it's end. A cool morning breeze made its dry branch rattle and one of its branches snapped. I could see a man hurry past the road. Before I could actually take hold of what was happening, I saw him drag that branch along with him and my mi...
1 comment
Read more