Sinusoidal Mind

And the world named me cynical!



I am here convincing the world of my very visibility…
yet they say I am so far away from being here.


There is more of me which the day hasn’t seen…
‘cos they say I am an inhibit of my own clutters.


There is more to what I show of my feelings…
‘cos they say I am an evaluated victim of self constraints.


I see the night in the daytime and shiver…
and they say I am the cause and effect of my own bilateral imagination.


I experience the unknown sitting next to me with a snorty glare…
yet they say he is non existent, in my mind, unseen and unheard by others.


I howl hastily; for the fears reckon me from the timeless era…
Wrecked from my own tears, I am yet deemed to be a societal threat.


I see the food explicitly served in my plate by the fist of ordinance…
Flies being the honor of guests leave no space for my fingers to savor.


I see the known faces walking since years along my line of living…
but I know the known faces just know me skin deep.


I am destined of having pleasures of life within the 4 walls,
with a small window opening to the world as seen by them.
The only prop that decorated within the 4 walls was my cot,
with 3 shaky legs and 3 bricks supporting as the 4th leg.
Unwashed blanket to cover me from the coldness,
which was the only gift I saw as a child from my mother.
And then I blankly stare at the only ornament decorating me since ages,
the only metal I felt and knew,
the only music I heard when they clanged harshly,
the perpetual chain of my miseries and unseen happiness,
that clenched my feet to the wall of darkness.
And they say it was the chain of grounding me to normalcy,
Chain of keeping a control on my behavior,
Chain depicting the cause of their right actions.


They say,
I am the result of my sinusoidal mindset.
I am the mould of my own fears.
I am the reason of their perpetual problems.
I am the insult of their family pride.


But all I wanted to say was,
I want to be heard, as the way they are heard by the world,
I want to be felt, as the way they are felt by the world,
I want to be touched, as the way they are touched by the world,
I want to be seen, as the way they are seen by the world,
I want to live a life, as they live theirs in this world,
I want to be like them, living a life in the open air,
Not like mine counting days in the solitary confinement.


Since the hold on my memory, I’ve seen the sapling grow
outside my worldly window, into its gigantic beauty,
shadowing the world beneath, housing the birds in thousands,
kids swinging from the tree into their own sweet time.


I see the familiarity breeding happiness…
but that’s just a state of momentary present.


And then I see my aging helpless palms scooping my vision….
In a deliberate attempt to close to the worldly norms.


And yet the world named me cynical.