Where is my heart?

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Where is my heart?

You hear, swallowed in the layers of flesh

Mortal murmurs of yearning egress

Recoils from the flesh of uncertainty this skin is layered with

 

Uncertainty of shifting muse

You see, the balance beneath my chest displaced

Sideways, where shackled heart does lie chafed

Weighed and decrepit to lift a will

 

Torn equilibrium of the willing

You feel, the ache at the feat of desires

Crushed under the run of contrast decisions on fire

Wronged congeniality with societal norms gravitates

 

Pleasant pull of gravity

You know, protruding eye of skies downpour

Reflect into rivulets, they travel down the slope

Certitude of oceans absorb them in

 

Where is my heart?

You shalt witness the upfront roar of the afraid

Twirl about the pivot, rusted will to persuade

Cuffs of newborn shattered to smithereens

 

Where is my heart?

Here is my heart, O you carry if worthy

Placed on your palms it quivers at your mercy

And with a courtesy, “Where is your heart?”

 

You answer me

 

©Written Frames, 2018

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Their gift to see is your gift to be seen

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Talent is to unique

The unusual among the usual,

But what is usual,

and what is not

For whom is it to decide,

Wonder who takes a shot

A talent by itself

Is to have a heart

Enlightened to give light

to dreams lying latent

And acknowledge

A star shining bright

In the broad daylight

An ordinary

Surfaces as the ordinary

Yet to the one with vision and eyes

Not so ordinary

As a faint shine appeals the eyes

As a talent is recognized

 

Written Frames (8)

©Written Frames, 2017

Faint

Traumatic clamour of uncertainties ….

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Amidst of maybes and maybe not ,

There are definite yeses and noes

Which we try to avoid and ignore.

Why are we so oriented towards negativity that every false word said, sounds more credible and received with resolute certainty? Why are we so susceptible to listen to the outer discouraging noise and fail to even hear the inner voice? Why darkness continues to exist even when it is broad daylight? Why have we developed a special liking for it to feel at home as it resides in our heart and mind?

Someone calls you ugly and you put ugliness to be defined as if it has something to do with your small eyes, not so full lips, and the complexion being not up to the mark, the mark which is anyway a standard of unknown establishment. All are constructed, manipulated and put in trend by us humans to tread and trample other fellow humans in order to create an illusion of excellence and superiority. They question your weaknesses and you tend to disown your strength, falling prey to the very well exposed snare of doubt. They are skeptical if you can do it and you are almost sure that you cannot, for the times you believed in challenges is gone with your childhood. You are an adult who thinks what others think of you and let them control your limits and boundaries. I wonder how do we get to know the limits unless we push it to go beyond what is customary?

Someone calls you beautiful and you name the compliment a sarcasm in disguise – ‘No, tis a tease. A lie to put my poor heart on hold.’. You get a favor done to you and all you return is the questioned benevolence. Why do we tend to find hidden motives behind every good thing happens to us? We accept kindness, we welcome the help, we address the good, but never without a second, a third or many more revisions and thoughts. Is it us being aware and conscious or us being pessimistic for not to believe in one go? Are we in the land where words like trust and faith are there only to beautify the quotes? I struggle to think and imagine a life when there are no second thoughts about our existence, acquaintances, preferences and dislikes. Indeed, this traumatic clamor of uncertainties stick to us like a shadow in the daytime and is what we sleep with at night.

The chains of pessimism and lack of confidence bind us all. The noise will be amplified at every turn you take in life. With every single decibel of the noise you take in, there triggers a deluge within to take you away from your beliefs and make you believe in what they believe. You will be drenched and pushed into the swamp of your own strangulated faith, seeking for a breath, standing on the podium of accepted truth in falsity. I wonder if we have seen enough atrocity and dark in life that our eyes fail to adjust to the light of good? Why don’t we just put filters to the noise and listen to ourselves for once. I wonder, how difficult it is to actually believe in something or someone without any differences and skepticism.

To believe is not about what you think is right. To believe is to hang on to something you wish to exist. To believe is to live every feeling. ‘I trust you’, you believe not to be hurt this time. ‘I love you’, a belief, not to be alone by heart anymore. ‘I miss you’, you believe in the memories you lived. To believe is to risk yourself towards the uncertainties. The good, the bad might occur, but the belief that it befalls for good again is what keeps you go on with the belief – ‘Everything is just going to be fine’.

Be a devotee to your belief, not to your fate !!!