I used to be cheerful
Where did it go wrong?
I kept thinking about it every day and night...
I didn't cry
I didn't laugh either...
My head wasn't heavy
It felt vacant...
Where did it go wrong? I was disturbed.
It was not that I was lonely and cold,
It was not that people loathed me,
It was not that I yearned for anything or anyone.
I never had preferences at first,
To get disappointed with anything or anyone...
I started to search for myself,
In all those chaos,
Not knowing what had I just started.
I wonder if anyone has ever been able to unfold themselves!
I was flustered as I saw myself in the process.
I was nothing
But a polar version of myself,
Even if others did not mind,
Even though they cared not about me,
I was not fine already,
I was discontented,
I was not me.
I crumbled, sobbed and repressed the suffering.
The me who couldn't say that I was not okay,
I felt hostility toward.
Somewhere in the path of life,
I cuffed my own hands.
And had lost the key.
Can't anyone unlock it? I thought,
Not crying out loud for help.
I sat there waiting to hear
That it's okay,
And that it's alright to be imperfect.
Tucking the pain inside my heart,
I resumed marching forward,
The destination? It was unknown.
I knew nothing
But one thing.
That I was going to be the real me.