Flowers,freedom and butterflies...

To the girl, who once loved flowers, freedom, books and butterflies.

She was greater than the world, but to the world, she was smaller than a dot

Her roads did not take her to that path of the world

Forgetting her coffee, skipping her meals; she walked to the noisiest of all streets

She was alone in the crowd, while others were rushing to catch their life

The people pushed her away, and no one  noticed her fall

She felt lonely, but no one  arrived to break her silence

She took crossroads, but she it led her nowhere

She loved the beauty of single words, prologues and poems

She loved the volumes spoken about a single thought

Yes, she loved words and she fell for them often

She spoke her heart out always, not knowing when to stop, where to end

She hated being interrupted, when she was writing or reading or listening to a song

She had her smiles and tears, even when nobody was there

She learnt to live alone, alone in a crowd, alone in someone’s company

And that gave her all the freedom of the world

She had a few rules, but hated it when someone else did it

She always looked for mirrors to draw her kajal, and the mirror began to talk

She was like a puddle in the rain, which was beautiful only at times

 People knew, she was vulnerable and they were intimidated by her strenth

She was a paradox in her own way.

Some told, she was weak, while for others, she was strong, obstinate

And for her, she was not just strong, but strong,

Too strong, to be carried along with the wind

She was defensive, but fell for all  who paid her  attention

 people came, stayed her for short span and left,

She didn’t ask anyone to stay, because she knew; they were not good enough to stay

She didn’t have any loose threads to hold on,

She didn’t hear any footsteps, powerful enough to skip her beats

She reacted, spoke sarcastic but real

The quicker, she got the strength to loose, loose herself

She was running into it…running away from something,

Running to something, she doesn’t know

Her tread of fate stemmed from a lightest thought

She wanted to stay invisible, knowing that no one would notice her absence

She began to imagine her obituary without any fear.

She didn’t have the fear for the oblivion, because she was curious to know what it is

When life didn’t have anything to offer for her, since eternity

She felt hungry, hungry to death.. she searched for those capsules, swallowed it,

And felt numb, tasteless, no hope, no fears, no sanity, no madness

No umbrellas, no rain, no tea stalls, no smiles, no tears, no destination

With a death note, “All is well” - she parted,

Once more proving to be weird.

It was calm and lost…

Angels can tread only on heavenly grounds

She can’t set her foot on a ‘man-made earth’

May her soul rest in peace

                        The girl who once loved flowers, freedom, books and butterflies