I knew I was wrong,
So I thought why not be her Mr right.
I kept my wrong at bay
To meet your right which lay the other way.
I didn't take any leap, it was one step at a time
I was forsaking which had long been mine.
A shadow in me was learning to be on its own.
It staggered, knee bent but it's spirit kept it high.
The dark clouds seemed no more darker,
The sun rays no more blinding,
I was learning to be awake
Learning to be alive.
Just when I thought I could meet your right,
Just when the story could have begun,
Just when I was strong enough to be strong,
It all snapped.
Your right no more seemed right,
My wrong no more was wrong.
And I walked back, my spirit sunk,
My heart barren,
My wrong was once again mine.
"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...
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