She was sitting there, Maintaining her divine yoga posture, Like a deity with her numen, Yarns of coloured threads glittering beside, And more followed as she spun the Spinning wheel, The spinning wheel of life,
'Mother' I called her, 'Can I borrow one?' She looked at me still maintaining her poise, She urbanely replied "which one?" 'There the black one' I answered instantly.
"The black one!" Her voice mirrored her confoundment. 'Yes, I love the colour' I added. "Listen Child" she continued, " This my dear is not an easy Life to handle. It has omens of failure, Broken paths of success, Eclipse of heartbreak, Doom of curses, and only a zilch of favour."
'I will take that' I retorted. She smirked at my obstinacy, "Revamp it to white with care and Love, you got. Don't drop it midway, Complete the cycle and return it to me once you are done".
She handed the black yarn to me as she waned in the air, I jumped with innocent ecstasy, Only until I entered the "Life".
No matter how many times I deny your existence, you would come up out of nowhere making me believe you exist.
And then, I would keep looking for people, just to ensure I would keep believing in you.
But then, I only met people who either didn't believe you or who found you before me and didn't want me to share you.
I wonder about this irony everyday. How can something be so sparce that people question its existence, And yet so much that people think it can be found anywhere.
But I guess, I get it by now You were just another emotion that passes through my mind and messes up with it.
So, love, I set you free for now. No matter how enticing you feel, I'm so done with this conundrum that I don't feel like chasing you. Maybe, after a few years, we'll meet halfway and I would feel the desire to fall for you one more time.