A feather lost … So was my friend
Life and time never stops, not once for those who never want it to move. How one could wish if time waited for them, to explain, to repent, to act upon and to rectify life’s wrong moments. But alas, it happens only in supernatural fictions and dreams.
The day never blurs, the wound stays afresh, when she walked out. Walked far, walked beyond where she could hear my cries. My woes which had turned into bitterness within. The revenge I had to vent upon those similar, the trust I had lost hoping for the best. But she did not postpone her inhibitions. And I could not stop her from leaving.
I was a bird with fewer feathers, but a bird that learnt to fly low to still fly. Though obstacles increased, and vision obstructed, yet flying low was to land quicker whenever tired. Euphemism – a human with lesser good friends. Man never is complete without them, the ones who call to abuse you, who still wake you up from deserved sound sleep, who celebrate you’re-getting-dumped to make you feel lighter, who eye and gobble everything your Mom dishes out, and who always have to two shoulders for you to lean upon and wail.
The void lasts forever, trying hard to be replaced with new faces, failing endlessly. The search continues, till hope wilts and you coil up a loner. But does life end? It pulls on with more stabs sustained. And you are weakened to be stronger next. A good friend can never be bargained for, so cannot be life and time ….