Broken Glass

Broken glass is like a shattered heart,

Broken glass is like all the tiny pieces ripped apart...

Broken glass isn't just a broken glass,

It is painful reminders and bad memories...

Broken glass is like once beautiful rose,

Now black, withered, and crushed to dust...

Broken glass is in a million pieces,

Representing the million tears you have shed...

Broken glass is never a beautiful thing,

Broken glass can be pieced back together, like a broken heart,

But, Alas!! it will be forever changed.....

The Poignant Past

She was alone in her room. It was 2:30 am in the night. She wondered why she was still awake at the dead of the night. She went to the terrace and was startled by the chilly squall. The mist was setting in and she could feel the dew drops on the leaves. It was a reminiscence of freshness that used to be the essence of her life. She looked up at the sky and smiled. It had given her company on many such nights. The whistle of the guard screeched into the night and disturbed its tranquillity. She went back to her room and shut off the lights. The grandfather’s clock struck 3.She resolved to go to sleep as she had a long day ahead. Just when she closed her eyes, it came back. But no, she had forgotten it. She had assured everyone that everything is fine. Alas, she hadn’t. How could she erase it from her mind?? It was a nightmare she had every night. She couldn’t deny his presence in her room. She wanted to run away. She wanted to shout but knew she wouldn’t be heard. He approached her and with his every step her heartbeats escalated. She clutched snugly to her blanket as if it would protect her from the sinner. The feeling of feebleness sunk in as he was besides her. Her conscience cried for help. She couldn’t. She was fighting with herself and with him. But she lost. She had lost the battle after an hour. He left her alone in the room crying and wailing. The night questioned her – “How could she allow someone to brutally kill her innocence? How is it that she could survive every night?” She had no answers. She wanted to wash away the scars he had left behind. She was waiting for her tears to dry. She was amazed at their ability to accompany her every night. She couldn’t believe that someone who was supposed to be protect her, had left her completely vulnerable. The hand on which she tied the string of love, trust and affection...how could that hand hurt her so much. Did he have no conscience??? So many questions left unanswered, the questions that tortured her day and night. The mirror of her soul was ashamed of what it saw. Could she blame herself for what happened? Whom should she turn to?? She thought of her parents. But was afraid of hurting them. She didn’t want to inflict pain upon them, something they dint deserve. Yes, she was to be blamed. She was silent...silent to the murder of her conscience...silent to her tears. Did she have an option?? May be she did but she chose not to follow it. It was 5 am. The night had ended. She opened her eyes. They were wet. It was surely a bad dream. It was her past – a painful past. It never left her alone. It is like a termite that sucks the pulp of her life. It is that phase of her life that will continue to haunt her till eternity....no matter how hard she tries to introduce a new page into her life....the spots of her past will still blotch her existence.

Koi aisa nahin jispe duniya luta dete,
Sab ne dhoka diya kis-kis ko bhula dete,
Apne dil ka dard dil mein hi dabaye rakha,
Karte bayaan to subko rula dete....!!!!