I’ve closed all doors to you.
As you’ve let me down -
In so many ways…
So no hope, no love,
No warmth, no care.
The way you’ve taught me to be.
The way I’ve learned it from you.
The one door that remains open
Is the door of pain.
That gushes with memories
Hard to forget and harder
To live with.
Yet, I still do…
And endure them all.
No choice, I guess.
Some Karmas don’t leave you.
They say, if you have bad days
They are like bad Karmas…
Must have sinned so much in the past
To have deserved a 'pal' like you.
Anyway, the door of pain
Even if I want to close it.
Shut it down like a shutter of the mind.
It juts open to the gushes of
Thoughts, memories and feelings
That barge into it, and often break it.
I’ve tried mending it, repairing it,
Cementing it to a permanent closure.
But then some floods and hurricanes
Are so strong and enormous –
Violently disturbing! Lashing out with
Myriads of miseries….that the cemented door
Stands no ground, and crumbles down
Like a hay stack, and the pain is like
That elusive needle that is there, pricking me
Every now and then, and yet hard to pin-point.
