Posted by on September 22, 2007

To stretch your arms, yet feel them cuffed,
To free up your ears, yet feel them stuffed,
To see something, and yet feel so blind,
To walk ahead, and be left far behind.

It was such a beautiful dream, a fantasy,
It seemed too true to dismiss as mere fancy,
There was so much to your life, so much that you had to hope,
It so engulfed you to wonder, if one lifetime was enough to cope.

Chasing little butterflies across the field,
You wandered onto new roads far afield,
There was so much to walk, and nothing to see,
Which made you doubt, what it meant to be free.

As time passed, the dream broke up into fragments,
And life mixed them up, and jumbled the contents,
And you know not, if it is destiny or dream,
Or really far away reality can seem.

Legs weighed down by anchors of responsibility,
Hands stand cuffed by illusions of social inability,
And the mouth seeks not the adventure,
Of areas the mind no longer wants to venture.

The eyes though free, are pained to tears,
Having witnessed the dream shattering over the years,
Sad indeed is the story of these fetters that bind,
And poor dreams, worser still that you can’t mind.

You chose to put these onto yourself of own accord,
Maybe circumstances forced you to tighten the cord,
But better wake up before the knots get too tight,
And the already frustrated dream gets out of sight.

This one is dedicated to Nagalakshmi, partly because I couldn’t find a person who was more apt for it, and mainly because it reflected the metamorphosis from a person I knew to an extent to a person I may no longer know, or maybe believe I can no longer recognise.

Though this one is dedicated, it doesn’t mean it has nothing to do with me. In fact I see this dedication more as a precursor to the kind of person I am slowly becoming, and can trace through it the metamorphosis I myself am undergoing. We all grow up with some dreams, some aspirations, mostly just fancies, but some deep desires that we wish we could fulfill in this lifetime. Then along the way, somehow we shift track and find ourselves on a totally new journey, watching the old track part in a different direction in front of our own eyes.

This poem was a abstract representation of the dreams that I thought she had, and the reality that now envelops, the same way it is the representation of the way I am slowly becoming, and of the fate that is becoming apparent of my dreams.

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