As she typed out the last message,
She resolved not to type another.
As she read up the last reply,
She decided never to wait for another.
She had always contemplated the non- obvious,
And was scared of it.
She had many times thought of the non- precarious,
And prayed it was not true.
Yet these messages today
Scared her, made her uneasy.
Yet these messages today
Made her hate her destiny.
And as she decided to wrap up this chapter today,
Her mobile blinked and made a noise.
She turned around and checked to find another message there,
Picked it up, typed a reply, sent it away,
She had once again broken her promise to herself,
Her heart in her mouth, she now just could not bear the PAIN.
She stifled for reasons unknown
Her heart sang some song in a non- chalant tone
She wanted to sing, she wanted to dance
Her throat refused to co- operate, her legs did not give her a chance
She was happy that day,
For reasons mysterious
She was jolly that day
For which she had reasons of her own.
But as she danced, she was reminded of someone
But as she sang, she was reminded of that one
These people had broken her heart time and again
These people did not matter to her, but still managed to give her pain.
So, she talked, she talked, she talked some more
And gradually it turned into a whisper, a whimper and then nothing more
Her ideas, her pen, her stories untold
Her pain, her shallowness, and fears UNKNOWN.
The red couch called out to her
She hadn’t been on it for some days now
She had fondly always called it her ‘thinking couch’
It bore this tag like a crown.
The couch was seated in the main area of the sitting room,
It looked out to a green park
Whenever she was upset or happy,
She would sit in it and rejuvenate to get her spark.
But now the couch had seen her cross it day and night
She did not stop, she did not show delight
It knew that something was wrong
But what could it do, it was only a couch and didn’t know what to do about her plight.
Then one day after some days,
She came back to sit on the couch.
She was not at ease,
The couch could feel the ouch.
The girl cried and cried and could not stop
Her tears would just constantly drop
And as if the couch had ears and could console her,
She talked to it and talked again
She revealed her story, she revealed her pain.
Her eyes swollen, her voice numb,
She disclosed her pain, her voice barely a hum.
She cried because she felt sad about how she could not help that some things happened
She cried because she could not help that some things anyway happened.
Her story the couch heard patiently,
It wished it could tell her that-
Happening and not are a part of the same life,
One must learn and teach from experiences wide
But just then the girl shouted out loud
She shrieked, she howled, she fell down on the ground
And that is when the couch just broke and fell too
As if to prove that, with every happening, there existed a CONNECTION TOO.