Its strange
How intensities
At times face trivialities
How after so many ups and downs
Come a sudden glitch without any sound
You ignore or become indifferent
You realize its beyond your realm
And yet it feels awkward
To face something that small
To see the same dark hole
After every walk
Every stroll
The blot is not on your wall
It is so not there
It’s the problem of vision
How each and all stare
And yet
It is so visible
There it is there
The naked wall
The tattered paint
That blot
Everyone stares
The wall is strong
It knows it is not there
And yet
They call
The wall
With a blot to stare
Its strange
How once
The same blot is considered
A beauty spot
A mark
That makes that wall
Different and unique
Wall keeps wondering
About that imposed artificial blot
How a newcomer denies to see it at all
How just before leaving countryside
Every guest visit that mysterious wall
And then to avoid that guilt
Spits on that beloved wall
Call it a local stall
And goes off leaving wall
The wall remains strong
Right there where she was standing
Again giving shade to new guests
Again facing some new withstandings
She knows that she is alone
Despite of holding the entire household
People come, live beside
They take shelter
Use her to their demise
And then once again the cycle repeats
They go
Calling her wall of street
And her journey goes on
Without moving
The wall of stone
Written by - Mystical Wanderer
May I suggest a book about andaman islands ,literary work ,stories are nice in it of my islands,which will interest you !
ReplyDeleteSure...let me know the name. Would love to read it. :)
DeleteThanks for responding :) " the last wave" by Pankaj Seksharia , would love to hear from you once u finish it !!
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