I hear voices.
They constantly occupy my mind.
They fight, one trying to assert his voice over other.
A fight which knows no end,
A fight unheard yet disturbing.
They don't let me be at ease
I crack blatant lies to cover these voices.
I hush them, for I fear the world would not acknowledge them
Their subdued, meek echoes linger afresh,
"Oh, hear us out", they try saying.
I give them a loud banging, enough to drown their gibberish.
I try to make them listen to what I have to say
Their adamant selves find it difficult to comply.
Yet, they somehow seem subdued,
For, they disappear at moments.
I tell them with great compassion,
Voices, please stay by.
But, let me be my own voice first.
And they suddenly cry in unison.
Their task accomplished, they bid me goodbye.
A silence, a pin drop silence
Keeps vibrating.
But, whenever my mind is in chaos, they remember what I had wished for.
They come back to me, and together we form a voice.
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...
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