Imperfections...

A major victim of “time passing by” is the appreciation of one’s own work. A few days back I was going through the poems I had written during my college days. It was mostly about the usual stuffs like the frustrations, failure, crushes and things I somewhat find too clichéd to write about now a days. Its funny how we and the things around us change and we are the last one to notice it. We don’t even notice the significant contribution we ourselves put to change these things. Coming back to the poems, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to make any changes (and improve) any of those poems. I wanted to make them more cheerful. I wanted to change the metaphors I used to describe things. I wanted to frame the verses in a better way. But then poems just do not pop out of nothing. They are the testimony of how one feels for different encounters which transpires in his life. They are the best way to tell who you actually were on that specific day. So even if you try to change the poem you wrote, all you will get is a new one which will show who you are today. You just can’t change something you had written in the past.

Maybe it’s better (and easier) to acknowledge them just as they are and accept that it’s because of what we felt and wrote earlier, we feel and write much better today.

Anyways, just for old times sake here’s the first poem I wrote:


Starry Nights…

Glint of the city fades away,
I flee from glaring heights,
From jeering dark lanes
From the betraying paths.

I head for the woods,
Befriended by the sultry night,
Stars wink excited..
As if meeting an old’ friend.

Sneaking through the clouds,
The moonlight hugs me.
Breeze swims across like angels,
Disappearing the last traces of sadness.

Deaf to the calling city.
Know I have to go back...
Face the glaring sun...
Trying to bring me to my knees.

But for the night I am trapped
I wrap myself by the shadows...
Under the aegis of sleepy trees...
Lying on the grass I just drift away.