mirror of
https://gitlab.com/thelazyoxymoron/siddhartha-golu-website.git
synced 2025-07-27 13:07:58 +02:00
Completed migration from hugo-swift-theme to PaperMod
This commit is contained in:
82
content/posts/deference-vs-indifference.md
Normal file
82
content/posts/deference-vs-indifference.md
Normal file
@@ -0,0 +1,82 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: "Deference vs. Indifference"
|
||||
date: 2019-03-15T22:27:30+05:30
|
||||
categories: ["Poetry"]
|
||||
tags: ["poetry", "writing"]
|
||||
cover:
|
||||
hidden: false
|
||||
image: "images/the-solitude.jpg"
|
||||
draft: false
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
[(See this picture on Flickr)]
|
||||
|
||||
------------------------------------------------
|
||||
|
||||
## Deference vs. Indifference
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
There used to be a time
|
||||
when things used to be simple.
|
||||
I'd wake up, rub my eyes, sit up straight, close my eyes,
|
||||
And pray that He will continue to guide me
|
||||
as He had done the previous day.
|
||||
There used to be a time
|
||||
when I used to love the aroma
|
||||
of the stick when it burned,
|
||||
lighting up my day with the secret enchantments,
|
||||
as if the secrecy itself was the source of my happiness.
|
||||
|
||||
There used to be a time
|
||||
when coming home after a bad day,
|
||||
I'd sit on my bed and join my hands and close my eyes
|
||||
and quietly shed a tear.
|
||||
The statues didn't move or speak or whisper,
|
||||
but I felt assured that somehow those little stones
|
||||
were the only ones who listened to me
|
||||
and answered back.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
But now,
|
||||
I wake up and lie on my bed for hours,
|
||||
watching the fan complete circles after circles after circles,
|
||||
as if I was stuck in the middle while everyone else around me
|
||||
kept going through life as if it was such an easy task.
|
||||
But now,
|
||||
The smell of the burning stick nauseates my senses,
|
||||
the secret spells make me mad,
|
||||
the constant enchantings feel as if someone lit a person on fire
|
||||
while they were sleeping.
|
||||
But now,
|
||||
when I come back home after a bad day,
|
||||
to the empty apartment echoing with silence so loud
|
||||
I worry my neighbors will start complaining -
|
||||
Even crying for hours doesn't help.
|
||||
|
||||
Sometimes I think,
|
||||
what use is consciousness
|
||||
if it doesn't make you happy but slowly takes away
|
||||
whatever little sanity you had left
|
||||
second by second.
|
||||
Sometimes I worry,
|
||||
Did I make a mistake in choosing not to follow blindly?
|
||||
Does asking questions that nobody has answers to
|
||||
makes me more alive
|
||||
or merely leaves me more broken and naive and stupid?
|
||||
Is ignorance really bliss?
|
||||
|
||||
I still go to churches and mosques and temples,
|
||||
the difference being it was deference before,
|
||||
and now it's curiosity about the people who go there
|
||||
and indifference to the thing they pray to.
|
||||
|
||||
Sometimes I wonder,
|
||||
There really is no answer, is there?
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
---------------------------------------
|
||||
|
||||
A poem I wrote when I had troubles accepting myself. Still do, to be honest.
|
||||
|
||||
[(See this picture on Flickr)]: https://www.flickr.com/photos/160696242@N07/46619008205/
|
Reference in New Issue
Block a user