A Rosy Face

A rosy face is my weakness. I grimly displease with myself because without my permission she has carved an abiding niche in my heart and even don’t know when. But it is apocalypse if I delineate her, even the prettiest face would fade in front of her like the rays of stars in moonlight. Above all, that round face is always in front of my eyes notwithstanding their being shut.

Her memorization kindled inside my heart never quenching sweet fire that retards me from any further waiting. That is why every moment I keep waiting and waiting and waiting in the hope of a single glimpse of her.

She has snatched everything from me. What is left in my possession is a sweet-seeming stagnant pain at the core of my heart of hearts. It is a profound state of melancholia and I want to get myself hospitalized, to be kept under proper medication where I can find somewhat solace, a heave of relief.

But hospital is turning me more serious patient rather than convincing me. I blame not any of the health personnel but I as you first get the wind that being a patient I have lack of patience. I am in the state of hypochondria and there are two treatments for me amnesia and insomania. Memories are inevitable and irrevocable and quick chock-a-block.So I cry and seek help direct from almighty God:

O God, O my Lord! Give me thine sword.

Trim all the memories. I tense less and void of worries.

A flux and reflux is tormenting my heart. But a fair and square fruit is yet to be tasted. I do see eye to eye with my heart but my science is dragging me behind and titling-tattling somewhat in my ear silently but my heart knows all the ins and outs of my conscience and becoming a stumbling block. Why do then I not fare in that particular affair is also a crucial question. Everywhere I choose a untrodden path, giving a wide berth.I always have a safe distance from any storm that may bring a storm in my life.

I don’t want to get into soup like this and always take an escape route just because I have a long way to go.

By the way, I am till now unable to know what is happening in the green-room of my heart. Why my heart is always ready to go off the deep end and not a little-bit scared from going through fire and water. I laugh in my sleeves to see the mischievousness of my heart and leave the track that is beaten almost by everyone.
I don’t make much of any beauty having rosy look but give a prime importance to that rosy contenace.I have been always in the same boat in all situations. I feel the warmth of a rose, have its fragrance, prays the god how many painstaking efforts and he has undergone with making a masterpiece of his art like this. All this is not like ‘easy come, easy go’ thought process for only time being .I am the keen observer of nature and I have a finger in the pie to find the beauty wherever and whenever I trace it out in the pettiest issue and a rosy face has ,for sure, an eternal influence even on a stone mind.

But I hanker after a rose but never do the folly to pluck it away for fragrance, for me, is more important than a rosy face.

Image (c) Gettyimages.com

27-Jun-2013

More by : Bijender Singh

Top | Random Thoughts

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