Confident.


What gave her confidence, was a smile.
A confidence fuelled by a promise:
The promise though really, was only a big fat hope,
Eh! And no one actually told her that!
She hoped the promise would work,
She promised herself, a confidence in the planned.
So once sorted with her hopes of a good plan and promises of confidence,
She was there- ready to set out in that world they called a ‘stage’:
She was going to play all characters, or at least help others play their roles,
She would hand them their props appropriate to the scene and theme,
She would wear make-up and masks to animate the shows too.
All to make sure, that people who mattered, all smiled.
All to make sure, that there were enough people who mattered.
All to make sure, that the enough had been a good number, and was enough too;
All to make sure, that she could sign off peaceful, happy, and CONFIDENT.

-Stuti

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A bump.


She walked high that day,
In a flurry of some newly acquired confidence.
Sweet smile on that face,
Eyes still intense.

So on and on she marched,
Secretly worrying about that little hiccup,
Pampering her soul with newer ideas,
Her speed each second picking up

But then suddenly she hit a little stone,
And bruised herself some.
A very small bump this was,
But it did leave her numb.

It had shaken her back to her present,
The confidence gone, no pretense.
And now tears in the eyes replaced the smile,
As if accusing her own self for being happy, for being CONFIDENT.

-Stuti