A Promise from Fate
farheenancy@gmail.com
A Promise from Fate
I know I began late, but, I promise, I will end it in a most most beautiful way,
Not chasing anything ensures your becoming,
The thing that you don’t chase- you become!
You can now see the beaming light,
The branches of trees touching the sunlight and scented air,
It has become a devoted saint.
Before it reached there,
It was cut half,
Laid bare open to the insects,
Before the greens it digested pesticides.
It had to give up living so many times!
It had to shed it’s own skin to feel alive again.
Do you see the fallen leaves?!
It once belonged to the mango tree.
Look at her now,
She is growing new leaves while still grieving for the forgotten ones,
She had to detach herself from her own leaves.
Outgrow from her
roots and reach to new heights,
She had to undergo a complete transformation.
Painful though sweet.
To grow ripened fruits,
She had to feel the betrayal of her own leaves,
In every autumn they leave her –
Creating space for the newer ones to live.
Consequences?!
Nothing!
She has to feel the same pain of departure.
And, she griefs.
What does the decomposing leaves know how she feels?!
How much does the autumn know what she endured?
For how many times she died and for how long she has survived!
What does the sunlight know how scorching the heat is?!
What does the soil know how growing and evolving feels.
Sometimes it feels like a wreckage,
A vandalism and drainage.
What does the fruit know how detachment feels?
Detachment from the self and the progression?!
What does the human know how much efforts it take to build a honey comb for it to crumble to enhance the sweetness of the barbaric civilization?!
For the so called ‘feel good moments’ of rupturing a butterfly and capturing its wing?!
For the sweetened taste bud?!
What does the creator know how it feels to lose everything and everyone, again and again?!
The loss of self!
The loss of belongingness!
Perhaps, he knows –
That’s why he created you to feel the same as well.
To become whole-
It had to give up Its very own essence-
The fallen leaves remind it of her belongings and lost days,
It is all memory now.
The tree has outgrown It’s shadow,
In the meadow of bewilderness,
It has reached to It’s pinnacle.
But, before becoming she had to undergo a open heart surgery,
Let her heart to divide into two,
Laid back baren – she had to fret for breath,
The breathtaking moments are now choking her.
Salute to her innocence –
As she has seen the blocks of evil,
Salute to her independence, her resilience and love for humanity;
As she could break all the class barriers and love beyond holding any prejudices,
She have seen all the life, traversed through each’s pain,
Have listened to their sides of story-
And, now she has a monograph of sadness raising her empathethic volume-
She sings beautiful song comprising all gains of pain!
Every chapter say something powerful about life’s anomaly,
She understands what grief feels like,
For then she has searched more like her –
Those who were living on the edges.
The life tree was cut by a lazer sharp saw thousand times.
She died every night.
She didn’t shed tears but bled-
Deep violet blood so red.
Her heart sank.
She was abandoned in an offshore island.
Everybody was stranger there.
And, she had to crawl,
Pause back,
And, begin from the scratch- step by step,
One step at a time,
Brick by brick she had to rebuild herself a thousand million and trillion times.
Before reaching the destined land,
She had to cross oceans,
Before getting a drop of water she had to wander around thirsty in the deserted deserts,
Smeared in dust, exhausted in pain- she knew only one designation,
It has to be achievements after all the losses she suffered.
She lives now.
Breathes freely counting her every blessings, every breath she inhales,
Every step she takes in,
Thanking for every claps, every applause she receives.
Because, once she had nothing.
She is familiar with the agony and pain.
And, she survives.
So she wanders around to discover more like her-
She walks besides the special ones those who
were crippled by fate,
Cut by saw,
They were wounded deeply just like her,
Every word spoken to them were sharper than knives,
A lazer sharp blade cutting her throat,
They wanted her to bend and surrender her voice.
They knew about her inner light so they decided to dim it,
They knew the magic in her so they casted a dark spell on it.
They knew what she had so they were determined to snatch everything she had or would become.
They wanted to stop her process of ‘becoming’,
So, when she finally became what she was meant to be she knew,
She knew how bitter the venome tastes.
She knew how obscure and vague the mist is,
Before clearing out the sky,
She knew cloud’s weight.
Before reaching to the coast,
She knew how distant the land was,
She was left all alone in the desert,
She had to curve her way out to reach there.
She was thirsty, hungry and weak,
The passengers who have shown her mercy earlier were snake in disguise,
Bite her bitterly,
Leaving her to fret,
Before she could become the owner of herself-
Everyone whom she thought to be her shelter disowned her- the untold story of a wagner.
In the meanwhile, a scorpion bit her,
She was thrown into the pits of hell.
Before reviving- she knew how hard it is to forget and forgive.
Cause, she know how much burden she had to carry before the fetters fell,
Every sigh tells a story-
The story of belonging and not belonging,
Staying and leaving,
The upheavals.
Everything she loved decayed.
Everything she touched swayed.
Everything she thought was her degraded.
Everything she believed in was shattered.
Everything she loved disappeared.
The prism light became her prison.
She now lives there-
In the cage,
All alone.
Alone with her thoughts and memories drifting away.
She has caged herself within her boundaries,
For she knows decomposition is boundless.
What if everything she knows will be scattered, again?!
What if everything she clings to will be vanished? through and throughout, again and again.
What if everything she still believes in will be broken?!
What if whatever her belongings are will be looted?!
What if those thieves are coming in a caravan?
And, the ravans are raving around?
The creeps circling the shimmering bay watch!
What if they wear a mask of chivalry and hid arrows?
What if the grazing cows are eaten by the crows flying above its head-
After those giant lions have enjoyed hunting it in the wild leaving the rest for them to crave?
What if the crows are hunted too after the feast?
And, what if the lions don’t know who else to eat?
What if we too might not know what to feed?
What if the lizard and the rats are laughing in the corner to have all privilege?
What if the meeks get crowned in the act of changing time?
Rotating regime?
What if it’s all happening again!
The story is shifting to the backwards. retarding again.
Again?!
Deja Vu!
Everything she touches and smiles at becomes distant- a far memory,
Sweet or bitter,
But, she clings to them.
Everything she loves becomes a poetry,
A piece of art surviving for decades!
Everything she writes were a piece of her heart,
She bleeds from within..
The poetry you see is her broken pieces of the mirror where she used to see her loved one’s reflections,
Oh, The unseen battle of spirits she fights daily!
In the world of emotions,
She is bare open,
Where every lost memories invoke feelings of pain.
What dearest thing might be to her than the pain?!
She knows the pain of losing,
Losing family and friends.
She carries the ache;
A walking shadow blurred in pain.
She draws a picture-
Incomplete and fragmented,
Broken into thousands of pieces.
It’s her.
She draws herself regularly with the ink of pain.
She knows what loss is,
So she counts every gains like grains,
But, at the end it doesn’t even matter,
The successful rain,
After a drought,
What does it bring in a dieing field?!
She is mother nature,
She saw her child die.
The crops are pricked by crows,
The grazing cows all dead.
She was the overbearing mother earth,
Only she knows what she carries,
She has buried thousands of dead.
And, she carries thousands of walking dead people,
Walking around with a fake smile,
Shattered down by the cruel world,
The reality of losing and loss made them realize-
Nothing belongs to them,
They belong to none.
Nothing stays.
Only the stillness remains after the chaos.
Every sigh weighs heavier than the weight of the heavy earth,
The globe in me is tired.
So is the world.
The depth is retired,
So is the lightness.
Heaviness overpowers,
Nothing matters but only the amends,
Understanding the crippled lives made me feel life.
That, every life matters- whether fast or slow,
There are no structures,
In between this can be deconstructed and reconstructed throughout,
Everything is lucid like a dream or the waves in the ocean.
With one big sway you drown in the web of darkness.
Or, you might play with the waves- diving the sea with a thin wooden slash.
Nothing matters anymore until you attain the place where you belong.
No struggles,
No wanderings,
No straws,
No scraping,
No clawing,
No crawling.
Everything stops with utter stillness.
In this process of “being and becoming”
I became still.
Cause, after the storm nothing remains.
Only silence prevails.
So, the five year old told oneday,
She wanted to become like me.
I whispered in her ear,
Don’t be!
You cannot bear the emblem of pain like me,
Nor do I desire for you to feel like me.
I can feel the heavy clouds, the ocean of tears and the burden of earth uncovering the untold stories;
Stories of the lost ones.
I can talk to the dead,
Walk among them.
I don’t want you to die so early.
I want you to live and relive-
In love and laughter,
In hope and mercy,
In all beauty, In a serene place with a sacred heart among good humans,
Again and again.
The lost innocence knows the price of it so she wants to preserve it,
Preserve the innocence of the child.
The curious five year old who wants to be her,
She gives a declaimer with spoiler.
She didn’t want to spoil the kid with fake hopes and lies.
Cause, she knows the price of the broken dreams.
She knows what the lies can do to the innocent.
Now she trembles,
She clings to her blessings,
For every now and then she is scared what if the looters of happiness are coming?
What if they are coming with poison of charm when she is unarmed?
What if her innocence becomes her greatest weakness?
What if she is not armored?!
The wisdom of loss has taught her caution.
Cautiously she stumbles, scrumbling upon her sand castle driven away in ocean waves,
The sands are drifting away just like faith and humour.
Whatever left is the residue of a great bunker!
An archaic pyramid is crumbled!
Lost scriptures tell stories about her,
Scrolls read her poems.
For every poem she writes scream about her pain.
Preserved in hidden cave,
She wrote poems from the walls of her heart inked with pain,
She bled in those words, her ache running wild through veins,
Her arteries clotted with the ache-
Time and time again she revisits the city drowned in the ocean of pain,
She cried an ocean of tears, swam in that vault for years,
She drew a picture- a self-portrait with the colors of rain,
The rainbow is painted with her woes,
The sky could also not stop wailing,
Through thunderstorm it protested to stop her cries.
The skyline listened to her yearnings.
Her silent reistance,
Into the path of autonomy- she became an unmatched spirit ,
Cause, she knew how many silent battles with those lurking spirits she fought regularly.
She knew those whispers and whims are trying to sell her soul and moans.
They tried to chain her but could not,
In the whimsical, she did not surrender to the thaw.
Is it victory of individuation?
Is it all about acceptance and moving forward?
She did not know this, so she kept going on,
In the hope of finding her belongings- to know where she truly belongs!
Even the moon has phases,
So do you,
Even the moon itself does not belong to itself,
Same goes for you too!
©® Farheen Akter Bhuian (Nancy)
Time Frame: 2.26 pm, Mirpur Cantonment.
Note: Only the creators know pain of creating and then detaching itself- for the creations to experience the same as well.
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