Nobody ever saw her unmade

They all saw a face

Glowing with glittery shimmer

Her smile was infectious

Admired, she inspired awe into whoever she met


they never tried to look behind the glitter

The sighs behind the smiles

The blankness of her eyes

She convincingly kept on showing them the made up face

and infectious smile

Then one day

They all heard about her suicide…


One thought on “Reality

  1. And, well, some of us-mortals die each night in the pit of oblivion – ishq ka raaz yehi hain. Your ink is a sword in this particular poem – mingled in philosophy and the humanness in being human.

    Allow me to share and co-mingle Faiz Ahmad Faiz poem with yours:

    That day is not so far, my love,
    when pain will halt all ways of life
    and inner sorrow reach its limit
    and yearning eyes will tire of waiting.
    My eyes, my tears will all be taken
    my youth, my dreams all lost.
    You might, my love, think of my love
    and make your frail heart sad;
    you might come shedding tears upon my grave
    and place a few spring flowers on the dust.

    You might, my love, just walk over my grave,
    laugh at my senseless devotion
    (you will not think much of all this
    but my broken heart will soldier on),

    You may laugh when all is over
    You may cry and weep and scream
    You may regret the past, or be glad of it – –

    Your lover will be asleep, uncaring.

    And, well, only a heart who endures whole of Life can write such piercingly-honest expression as you have conveyed — for, each of us who has felt the thorns in the eyes can appreciate such a poem as yours ! Blessing to you, always !

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