With the lifting of her veil, I jaunt over my rolling thoughts and some strong realizations
Seeing her made me feel that she’s a friend. She needed one and I felt like being that.
She was close.. close to heart!
Her silence, tolerance – killed me from within;
Dreaded my hopes and suffocated my thoughts.
But she took it all away with a calm curve on her face-
Her pretense always made me sad as I knew she’s not that what she shows to be!
Every time I looked at her, she seemed so unlucky, so suppressed –
Such helplessness made me weak,
My strength and ability to ponder over solutions to her ailment – went numb.
Whenever I used to find her alone, watching out endlessly, without a hurry
As if there was no other task to do.
Her hopeful gaze at the cool dawns which she welcomed with grace,
Seemed to revive her heart and added life to her seemingly lifeless body..
The morning breeze seemed to heal all her bruises, internal as well as external. Mental.
I knew she felt better then.
I so wanted to assure her that this was transient,
I wanted her to move on and smile..
Watching at the sun, eventually struggling out of the clouds, eventually shining and spreading life, hope, strength, joy and warmth-
She observed things in mornings,
Heard the little birds chirp, saw men going at work.
Absorbed as much warmth as she could, which somewhat caressed her soul.
It made her feel beautiful and free and gave birth to new hopes in her.
The couch near the window, maybe was her best friend as she never seemed willing to get off it!
She ended her day while accepting rough dusks with equal grace and a pinch of fear too-
Fear of ugliness and dependence.
Watching birds flying back to their nests- she too went back to her old world of tears, pain, struggle, fights and commotion.
It contaminated her feelings.
She flew to a place where her mind lacked rest and her soul lacked peace.
I remember, she truly disliked her reality.
But now when I see her, I see a changed woman.
As if a miracle happened, as if she has now gotten up from sleep.
I love her voice, I am smitten by her beauty,
It’s all visible because she makes it.
She’s independent now and doesn’t cry ’cause maybe she’s dried her tears and is tired of them.
And I’m sure, that the present curve on her beautiful face is a no-more pretense.
I can now sight her strengths, see her in power, in confidence.
Happiness for me is;
That now with every lifting of her veil-
I jaunt from doom to eternity..
And I am relieved.
Writer; Riya Manuja