My Ecology Assignment on the Gray Squirrels of Virginia

Pet Rabbits

# I wrote this long back when I was in school, just happened to come across it...
........................................................................................

Darting like two arrows
Through the lush green grass,
Ran the two rabbits-
Balls of fat cotton mass.

They halted abruptly
By the sound of our call.
They came back reluctantly
Up to the wall.

We gave them carrots
And alfalfa and cabbage;
Their hunger being great
They ate like savage.

And as for salad
They prefer the salt,
Lickin' us all over
With no desire to halt.

It still flashes in my memory-
Their rosy pink soft ears,
Their warm fluffy bodies,
My eyes get filled with tears.

Their vain attempts to attack,
Their successful bites and scratches,
Their peaceful snoring sleep,
The ruby eye that watches.

Ears that prick to the faintest sound,
Fast heavy breathing,
Thumping sounds they make with their feet
When enemy is approaching.

Jumping high, crouching low-
The countless days went by
Till I was forced to count them
And all of it seemed a lie.

Mood

7^th September, 2011

1:32

Today I won’t stretch myself. Because I don’t want to. I feel strangely relaxed and a desire to pamper myself. It’s a good mood to be in, I’ll say, but I don’t know how long it will last. At the moment, frankly, I don’t care. But in retrospect, considering all that have been going on throughout the past few days, my mood swings haven’t been something you would call rare. I mean, at times I have felt, like, abnormally elated, you know, and so much in love with everything around me and proud to own the things that are mine. And quite quickly, a sudden fit of anger. Sometimes guilt. Sometimes jealousy. Sometimes hopelessness. Sometimes inferiority.  Sometimes claustrophobic. Sometimes... many times...

Throughout the day, I think, I’ve wanted to write at least four different articles at four different times, in four different moods, titled: Raw, B and M, Pursuit, Silver and Gold. I don’t remember what B and M meant, obviously it had a full form but I just wrote down B and M in the margin of my notebook and now I don’t remember. I’ll have to wait, I guess, and hope that the mood will come back, sooner or later. Hey ‘Cosmic Conspiracy’ could also be one!

Anyway, I am kinda happy, so I guess that suffices at the moment and there’s no need to elaborate. Actually, you know what, I cannot elaborate. Not because I don’t have words or I don’t have time or I don’t remember but because I am so full of things to write that I can’t write any of them! And if I do attempt to do so, I’ll get so much into that single thing that I won’t remember the others anymore.(Collapse of the wave function)

Okay, things are not as hopeless as they seem. You know what I’ll do? I’ll open several word files, one for each article, and I’ll randomly type whatever comes to my head regarding it. Things may get mixed, articles may converge, and it might be a mess. So be it. The storm can’t go on forever. It’ll finally settle down. For gravity if not for anything else.

# A beep, a message, and then total mood reversal. I won’t react now because I am expected to be sleeping. But what shall I do about the heartbeats?

Okay, I’ve written this new article called ‘Fast Forward’. It includes the Cosmic Conspiracy concept. AND it reflects my current mood! :P

The Show - Lenka

Here's one of my favourite songs!

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I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I don't know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

Slow it down

Make it stop--

Or else my heart is going to pop

'Cause it's too much

Yeah, it's a lot

To be something I'm not

I'm a fool

Out of love

'Cause I just can't get enough

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I don't know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I am just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show

The sun is hot

In the sky

Just like a giant spotlight

The people follow the signs

And synchronize in time

It's a joke

Nobody knows

They've got a ticket to that show

Yeah

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I dont know where to go, can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I am just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show oh oh oh

Just enjoy the show oh oh oh

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Life is a maze and love is a riddle

I dont know where to go I can't do it alone I've tried

And I don't know why

I am just a little girl lost in the moment

I'm so scared but I don't show it

I can't figure it out

It's bringing me down I know

I've got to let it go

And just enjoy the show oh oh oh

Just enjoy the show

dum de dum

dudum de dum

Just enjoy the show

dum de dum

dudum de dum

Just enjoy the show

I want my money back

I want my money back

I want my money back

Just enjoy the show

I want my money back

I want my money back

I want my money back

Just enjoy the show

It depends...

“It depends...see, suppose I...”

“Oh, cut it! That’s the typical diplomatic you!”

Did this happen to you, ever? It happens to me every other day. Like, you try to see both sides of a situation and you are called diplomatic. They say I’m not frank, I’m trying to appease, never giving a straight reply to anything. Pretending, hiding my own opinion, even among friends. Going roundabout, with no single answer to a question. Basically, not being me.

Darn! That’s me.

Whatever reply I’m giving is exactly what is going on in my head. If I am not giving a direct answer, it just means that according to me that question does not have a direct answer. They say I must have an opinion of course. Maybe I do, but there are always so many factors to be considered. Something might be good in some context, and not in another. But do ‘I’ like it or not? I might like it in some way, in some place, at some time, but you can’t give such things an absolute value, can you? And if you’re giving it an absolute value, you better mean it. And then, when you can see across to the other side so clearly and understand the implications, how can you escape? Your own opinion is bound to be affected.

But I was called a diplomat, always. So I thought I must be a really diplomatic person, you know, with all the subtle politics I’ve played in my home to maintain peace with, and between, my sister, my mom and my dad. My sister was very outspoken, and that did not have very peaceful consequences. No, I respect her way but it is not my way. And if things can be done in peace, what better way can there be?

So, what about friends? Quite obviously I do not have the same obligations here. Well, let’s see, I might want to know someone’s opinion without biasing them. Then again, I might not want to hurt them, so I say the same thing in a more acceptable manner. But in most cases I am so indifferent about the things they ask that I don’t even have an opinion of my own and so I think about the various possibilities associated and give an answer in each case. That’s when it’s serious. At other times, I just make fun of their questions.

Coming back to our discussion, there’s this girl, who calls me diplomatic and calls herself the rebel. But she cries when a professor has a bad impression of her, and then there’s this guy she does not want to talk to but she will not tell him that, she will tell him that she would love to talk to him but she is really busy at the moment. And yet, to everyone, I’m the diplomat and she is the rebel, she’s just being sweet.

Then one fine day, I meet this guy in some of these organisation meetings and we become great friends. Although I like the amount of effort he spends reflecting on things, I would really appreciate if he beat about the bush a little less and came to the point a little faster. ‘Little’ is just me being very diplomatic, or sweet, according to your liking. What happened once was that some junior girl had made a cartoon and she wanted to give it for the magazine. I missed the meeting that day for some reason, so I had called her to my room to have a look at the cartoon. I was simply awestruck by its dumbness and she departed, telling me that the guy, my friend, he had asked her to darken the shades a little before submitting it. If he, by any chance, meant it, he would be so dead. Well, he would be dead otherwise too, poor girl, she was going to colour it up for nothing! What a mean way to say ‘no’, I thought.

And I brought up this topic with him the next day, perhaps subconsciously using the adjective ‘dumb’ more number of times than usual. “Why the fuck can’t you just say what you mean?” And he retorted, “What do you want me to say? Should I have said her that this cartoon that you have made is so dumb? And hence we do not want it?”

I did not retort. Something struck me hard. Of course he couldn’t tell that to her, that would be mean. But he should have made the ‘no’ clearer, isn’t it? (Come on, girl makes her ‘no’ so clear to a boy but still he doesn’t get it. And over here you are making the ‘no’ so ambiguous and she is so passionate about it, how would she ever realise?) What I would have said, I thought...

It’s true, you know, someone has put in honest effort into something, and to her it might actually seem nice. To her, it might mean a lot. A ‘no’ should be very polite, I agree. But one shouldn’t confuse ‘polite’ with ‘ambiguous’. Okay, suppose I write an article and someone higher up does not want to publish it, there are many possible reasons: he might not like my writing style (It’s too informal I know, but I really can’t help), he might not like what I write about (he might find the subject irrelevant), he might not like the way I dealt with the topic (here he’s being biased). The first reason would hurt me the most. But if I am being refused I would sure want to know the real reason, it is very important to me. I would certainly consider it very disrespectful of him if he would have given me an ‘excuse’ and not a ‘reason’. Hmmm... Maybe I could have said her, sorry it’s not that funny, you must improve on the content next time. You know, criticism can do permanent damage to an artist. However, if you are 100% sure that the person in question is no artist, you can throw away your guilt.

The above situation was ridiculous, I know, but the way he thought, the reasons, they were not wrong. Here’s a diplomat, I thought. Worse than myself. Maybe, my friends feel the same way about me, what I felt about this guy. And like me, this guy is a diplomat, by his heart. There is no cure for such a disease.

There was another guy I knew, and a lot of times he just did things to satisfy other people. Normally I would have thought that’s gross but then I realise, to him, that is what life means. He does not have an identity without his friends, and their goodwill defines the person that he is. You can’t ask him to stop it and be himself because the moment he stops it, he won’t be himself.

Then again there’s this guy who claims he hates fake people but at the Subway Counter (it’s a food outlet) he asks the guy to put a little less tomato and more of jalapeno, and he has admitted that he says it just so that he doesn’t appear dumb. Okay.

There seems to be lots of Schrodinger’s cats at loose.

And then there’s this woman, who is accused of being selfish and egoistic, and sure she is, in some ways. But she balances it by doing things for everyone else behind their back, very selflessly, and so quietly that they never come to know and hence never appreciate. But that’s her.

Some people ask me, what your passion is. According to them, I am supposed to just do what I like and chill out the rest of the times by perhaps watching a movie. How do I explain to them that watching movies interests me in the least, and there is no one particular thing that I like?

You cannot apply the same formula everywhere. Everything doesn’t work for everyone. Every ‘natural’ behaviour is not ‘natural’ to everyone. Each individual must be seen in a light independent of prejudices past. Everyone applies different logic; everyone wants different things out of life.

I might sound very diplomatic, but what I say, I do mean. And I think THAT is more important, than giving a single answer that is correct 99% of the times. The other 1% still deserves to be talked about. (I guess that’s the reason I suck at ‘objective’ questions.)

I am not asking for much; just let me be what I am.

If I’m giving you an opinion, it is very likely not mine. But if I’m being diplomatic, it’s certainly me.

Tangled

It’s like, weird. Normally, I do have a title for an article in my mind, which pretty much sums up my feelings at the moment of conception of the article. But now, I have none. I guess my brain’s gone more disorganised than ever and I think so much that it’s difficult to untangle facts from imagination.

Tangled. Just like those wires behind the CPU I was cleaning today. Hey, let’s call this article ‘Tangled’. :P

So, yeah, I was cleaning up stuff today and if you know me closely you would know how obsessed I get while cleaning up stuff in general, intolerant of any speck of dust larger than perhaps few microns. I was at it continuously the whole day, and at night when dad came home, he scolded me like hell and asked me to abandon it immediately. And like always, very sentimental about whatever I’m doing, I started crying and I stubbornly continued to wipe a table with a scrap of cloth I had in my hand. Then he scolded me even more and I cried even more, deciding in my mind that I wouldn’t give him a goodnight kiss today. Then deciding, I would never kiss him today onwards. Never wish him goodnight. Never talk to him. And if he dares try and stop me I wouldn’t step into that room again or sleep on that bed. If he’d force me to go to sleep, I would sit in a corner of the living room and scream and throw tantrums and not allow myself to be taken to that room until I’ve cleaned it and satisfied myself to my heart’s content.

That was inside my mind. But all the while, I was just crying.

And then, since he allowed me to finish, I forgave him. I even kissed him goodnight. Actually, I wasn’t angry anymore. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps because I was happy I had finished cleaning.

But, you know, he wasn’t really scolding me all the while. He was scolding that obsessed part of me which pisses him all the time. He was scolding my mom, who doesn’t care much about the dust. He was scolding himself since he gave me the idea about cleaning up. And he was scolding himself for scolding me. But that was inside his mind. Outside, of course, he was scolding me.

But there is one theory that has shattered this time. A theory about compatibility. I always thought I was very compatible with my dad and I would want a husband who’s just like my dad. And over the years I’ve found out most girls think the same. However, I do not think it’s really practical. It just appears so. There are so many things, you know, which I just do to humour him. Same goes with mom. That’s because I never expected mom and dad to be logical and understand my point of view. So I really don’t care what they think of me as long as I’m able to keep them happy. But with a partner, I’ll definitely expect that understanding. And then it’ll all go wrong. I can’t always humour him in all his various moods, I’ll always tend to force him to look from my point of view and not invalidate it. Maybe I’ll also expect him to give me little gifts and surprises, something you never expect from parents. Surely my dad wouldn’t cater to those expectations; he’s actually quite boring in terms of romance. Or maybe that’s because he’s totally disillusioned about it by this age. And mom and dad, they’ve long forgotten the rosy days and just remember how much they sacrificed for each other, and how much the other hurt them. That in turn makes them more stubborn with each other. It’s pathetic, I would never want to end up like that.

I am crying a lot and ... Oh, well, I forgot what I was actually going to write.

Missing Magic

Dear Maddy,

Thanks a lot. People in general would have given me relationship advices but I don’t need them. I know them all, I just can’t abide by them. There was something else missing. And that something was what you reminded me of, today. I guess that was exactly what I was forgetting- everything settles down in the end. And like, properly.

I always thought so. It has always happened with me, believe it or not. Suppose I had forgotten to take the Hindi homework to school, the teacher would surely be absent on that day. This might sound funny and trivial, but there have been many such incidents, and that too in perfect coordination, all to my favour. And this has happened so often that I used to actually depend on them and take them for granted.

And then, I grew up. And I just forgot all about that magic.

That magic was my belief in my own sincerity. I knew I had done my best, given my maximum. I wasn’t unhappy with myself. I could forgive myself for small mistakes. I was confident. And this confidence worked like magic. I never gave up hope, so nothing ever seemed impossible.

I do not remember since when I began screwing up things and forgot all about this magic but I am sure it’s gonna come back because so many coincidences do not happen for nothing- I always get too many cushions to fall back, and good cushions, mind you, not cheap ones. :P

So, basically, everything will be fine. 

Love you,

Shreya

PS: As for first feeling satisfied, and then thinking there’s a lot more to achieve- I guess you had become too complacent because you might not have really give a serious thought to what you would do AFTER getting into IIT. And now, since you are thinking a lot, you realise how much far there is to go. Not a problem, take it slow. It’s quite good, actually, something to chase.

Hey! Trains are actually great places to think. After I started staying in hostel, I never found the kind of peaceful privacy one needs to... contemplate. I guess I’ve found it again, here, in the Hyderabad-Pune Express! :P

And oops! I forgot what awesome sentence I had got in my head that time, which I was going to put up as my status in fb. It’s OK. I might remember it again sometime later, but it won’t be relevant then. 

Right now, I’ll finish up all my incomplete articles. Quickly before I forget! :P

:P

All I know is that if it’s meant for me, I’ll get it for sure. The 6400 km radius-ed bubble is hardly a barrier. You might show me some tiny figures and call them ‘probability’. Well, don’t try to calculate, mathematics will mislead you here. After all, enzymes have been finding substrates, signalling molecules have been finding receptors, and axons have been finding dendrites since millions of years. Oh, and the electron! It has been transiting forbidden energy gaps ever since a few seconds after the birth of the Universe. These things just HAPPEN.

Bad, Bad People

Another beautiful evening in IISER Pune, another fruit-punch sky. The beckoning cloud-mons, the head banging grass and the balmy breeze- all shut out by closed windows of the second-floor classroom, a meeting-place of sober minds. They discuss everything. Everything is so important. And so they meet and discuss.

Love?

A torrent of deep blue water endlessly stretching out in all directions, parallel to the black sky above. The moon and a few pinpricks of stars. A tiny ship in the middle of this infinity, tossed by careless waves. On the wheel, it’s you. Chilly winds blow your hair over your face, ruffle your flowing dress and freeze your skin. Your hands are cold and tired; almost lifeless. Then you feel them in his. The contagious warmth flows through you. He’s come to help you at the wheel. There’s no one else in the ship.

Everything feels so thrilling. Everything feels so good!

A violent toss and the ship might sink any moment. Yet it blends so well with the eternal sky and ocean, and gives the same feeling of ‘eternity’. The yellow lights on it look like ‘hope’, although you aren’t really hoping for anything specific.

A hug.

Why, this ship is not sinking anytime soon. And even if it is going to, do you care? It is either Everything or Nothing. And both are good.

My Favourite Colour is Blue

It isn’t windy any more outside, like it used to be in October. It had also rained sometimes then. And at other times, they were the trees dancing. I do miss it all but that is not the reason I have been hesitating to press the ‘send’ button on my laptop screen. Yesterday, I was very excited about the idea of this summer project in biophysics. I typed the mail, made a CV and got the recommendations. The internet wasn’t working in the night, so I wasn’t able to mail it. But now, I am not sure if I want to. I mean, am I going to pursue that subject? If not, then this is totally useless. Sure it’s exciting and all. But useless.

What could be useful? Something that I like, that I’ll be committed to. But how do I know what I really like?

I like particle physics. I like Quantum. I like electronics. I like organic chemistry. I like genetics. I like ecology and evolution. I like thermodynamics. I like relativity. I like spectroscopy. I like cell biology. And systems biology.
And then my phone rings...

“Hey, it’s nice but it’s pink. No offence but you do know that we want to please people from both the genders alike. Think upon it. I know you like pink but, well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something better...err...something more universal?”
“I do not like pink! In fact I hate pink most of the times. It’s sickly sweet. BUT PINK LOOKS GOOD THERE. That’s the only reason it’s there and I do not want to change it!”
“Alright, alright. We’ll see about that. It comes as a shock though, that you don’t like pink. Anybody would have taken that for granted, seeing that a lot of your belongings are pink in colour. So what’s your favourite colour then? Blue? (Laughs)”
“Of course it IS blue. Those things are pink because they look good when they are pink. But they are not ALL the things.”
“Okay, chill! I’ll suggest you look around yourself and see how many of your things are actually blue in colour, and then decide the validity of your statement.”
“You are not telling ME what MY favourite colour is.”
“Right. The work at hand, think of an alternative. We want to avoid pink.”
Roger.

My roomie, at that time, was sending a mail for some astronomy-related project. Aah... Astronomy! Some cosy rack back home must still be filled with all the astronomy books I had bought in my 7th and 8th classes. It was infatuation. Pure romance, before I decided I wouldn’t become an astronaut, and after some more time, not an astronomer either. Did I ever DECIDE that? Hold on! I’ll have to go to flashback mode. Perhaps I’ll be able to find some kind of an answer.

I think it was back in class 2 when I and my then best friend, we had decided to become scientists. We called ourselves that, and we solemnly mixed muck, shampoo, sugar, leaves and the like, changing our formula every weekend, hoping to invent something extraordinary. She has moved to commerce now but I’m still on. What I realise is that she moved to commerce because she was thinking seriously. I never did.

I was scoring the highest marks in mathematics, so I loved the subject. Then, in middle school, I was doing well in history, far more than anyone else. This was when I briefly considered doing archaeology. I was so fascinated with Egypt and all that I went to the library everyday to look it up (I can assure you I have enough material to write a book on the topic). And during the classes, I doodled myself among the pyramids discovering some great secrets of the past, which I converted to some sort of games with my sister once I got home. I still like Egypt but I stopped thinking about archaeology ever since my dad told me a strict and justified ‘no’, and I knew what he was saying made sense even though I wished otherwise.

Thus was born the concept of ‘utility’. But my love for mysteries remained. Science, sort of, fit that bill. In any case, it was one of the very few professions I knew about, my dad being a scientist. And for reasons I do not understand, money-matters never seemed to bother me as much as they did the people around me. I lived in my own, blissful world. Perhaps I still do. Perhaps I have been pampered too much. I don’t know.

Academic achievements apart, I started performing very well in Physics, and I had always liked it too. It seemed so exciting, and more importantly, so true and perfect and beautiful. Now that I remember, I actually loved it! This newfound love and newfound confidence sustained itself through the next few years, till class 12, around which time it became a sort of overconfidence, and a consequent “under-confidence” after some exams. All for that elusive target, a good rank in some very hyped exam, and a good college. All the old romance of Physics was forgotten.

As of today, I find myself in a Science college. I am miles away from mathematics and I do not intend to go back. I like Physics but I do not know enough, my confidence wavers. I like Chemistry, I am good at it- but that’s only the theory part. I am good (well, that’s something relative) in Biology and I like it and I’ll go there eventually perhaps, but not now.

Although my interests have been changing over the past, at some given time it was something definitive. Now it’s not. That scares me. I want to hold on to my past interests, just like I’m holding on to “My favourite colour is blue”. Yes, my favourite colour used to be blue but there have been seasons of brown, seasons of green, seasons of black, seasons of maroon and seasons of violet. The pinks were sporadic, though. I do not remember why I used to like blue so much but yes, it’s good that I liked ‘something’ so that I could give a truthful answer to a trivial question.

Today, if you ask me what my favourite colour is, I will still reply without a thought: blue. Sometimes, life is easy when you have got no choices. You don’t need to worry about making a right one.

If you trust your sanity you will know that if you had once made a conclusion in your right mind (and not while you were experiencing some emotional spasm- this is where the problem is), you must have had some very good reasons. Failure to recollect or understand those reasons under present circumstances does not mean you must abandon that conclusion. On a paper full of variedly coloured splashes, you might not be able to locate that spot you could once see distinctly when the paper was white. But that spot, it is still there.

I need to find my blue among the subjects, that too before the fifth semester. Sometimes I think it does not matter what I choose because in whatever I choose, I’ll still look for what I have always been looking for and I know I’ll find it, no matter what it is. In fact, the choice might seem trivial after some years, but it bothers me now. Just like this hair falling over my face. Oh I just can’t wait for the stipend! I badly need a haircut. Meanwhile I’ll have to do with these hair bands. I have two hair bands: one blue, one pink. I’d bought the pink one for my sister but then decided to keep it. My wardrobe- just one pink top. Most of them are blue. There’s a lot of black too. And Maroon. My bed sheet, the notebooks upon it, the pen, the pen-stand, the files: they’re all some shade of blue.

Hey, I must really like blue.

Empty

A fairy tale so beautiful...
Oh! It has all shattered!
I know the broken pieces
Because they pierce and bleed...





I wonder about in a wasteland
Among the ruins of the fort
We had built together.

Darkness comes over
But I do not have the lamp with me-
I had given it to you.

You are not around.
Many months have passed.
I am tired of this darkness!

I can see a glimmer in the distance
But it is not you.
Should I go, or should I still wait for you?

Undecidedly I proceed
To have a glimpse, at least
But oh! What is this happening?
A nearby bush is tugging
At my mantle
And I cannot go.

I begin to undo my mantle
I’ll have to leave it behind.
Now I move forward.

It looks attractive
Like a doorway to another place-
Beautiful, shiny, lighter, happier.

“But don’t open the door!”
Says a voice in my head,
“You never know what’s on the other side.”

“I can keep the door open”, I argue,
“And come back if I don’t like it.”
“Dear, you cannot come back”, says the door,
“You have to choose.
But sure, you can open me a little
And take a good look inside.”

It indeed is beautiful!
As beautiful as my fort used to be
Once upon a time.
Yet I can’t breathe freely,
Revel in its beauty or glory
Because my eyes are taking a critical look.

A ghostly shadow of long-lost feelings
Creep back into my heart
And I am scared.

I had felt this way before
When we began building our fort.
Only, it was stronger.

But I don’t care.
I want to go,
I want to feel it all again!
I want to be happy!
There is nothing happy
About the way I am living here.

I cannot call you, you cannot respond,
Our heartbeats don’t resonate anymore.
For what formality am I staying here?

It’s all empty! Empty!

I know you are there
Although you never come and see me.
That makes it even worse.

I had thought
We were building the fort together
But you stopped abruptly
And started building another cell
For you, and only you.
You thought I wouldn’t notice.

Why can’t you understand
This fort means nothing to me
Without you?

And so the fort crumpled down.

Of course you came to see me
Pretending everything was fine.
Perhaps you cared.

But I hid myself.
I didn’t want to see you.
I couldn’t take it.

It is not so bad now
Because in this desert of feelings
Nothing feels bad, nothing good.

I am standing on the threshold.
Perhaps, I must leave now.

It’s the memories- they weigh me down
But I won’t be fooled anymore
By this mirage of promises.

I must go.
Inside your cell you may be happy
But it’s all a broken place for me.
Yet I stayed- for the sake of a broken dream.

I am standing on the threshold.
Perhaps, I must leave now.

What if this breaks you?
I don’t want to hurt you anymore.
I know you are already hurt by my behaviour.
And I am hurt with yours.

I am standing on the threshold.
Perhaps, I must leave now.

Won’t you call me back?
And start building this fort with me again?

I am standing on the threshold.
Perhaps, I must leave now.

Are you calling me?
Should I wait?


----
Oh, thanks for bearing with this depressing poem. I wrote it very very long back, actually. Was too shy and all to post it. But a friend of mine happened to read it accidentally. Since its no more a secret, I thought I might as well share it.

By the way, she liked it. :P