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 now 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 many many a times! 

It had to shed it's own skin to feel alive again.

Do you see the fallen leaves?!

It was belonged to the mango tree. 

Look at her now, 

She is growing new leaves while still grieving for the forgotten leaves, 

She had to detach herself from her own leaves. 

Outgrow from her own roots and reach to new hieghts,

She had to undergo a complete transformation. 

Painful though sweet.

To grow sweeter ripened mangoes, 

She had to feel the betrayal of her own leafs, 

In every autumn they leave her -

Making space for the newer ones to live. 

Consequences?! 

Nothing!

She has to feel the pain of departure. 

And, she griefs.

What does the decomposing leaves know how she feels?!

How much the autumn know what she endured? 

For how many times and for how long!

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 drainage and vandalism. 

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 for enhancing the sweetness of the civilization?!

For the feel good moment?!  

For the 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.

To become a whole-

It had to give up It's 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 now,

It has reached to It's pinnacle. 

But, before becoming she had to undergo a open heart surgery,

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 thousand million and trillion times. 

She lives now.

Breathes freely counting her every breath, 

Every step she takes in, 

Thanking for every claps she gets.

Because, once she had nothing. 

She knows the pain . 

The agony.

And, she survives.

So she wanders around to discover more like her- disabled, 

Crippled by fate, 

Cut by saws, 

Every word spoken were sharper than knives, 

They knew her light so they decided to dim it, 

They knew the magic in her so they casted a dark spell on her. 

They knew what she had so they were determined to snatch everything she had or become. 

They wanted to stop her '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 in the pit 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 was shattered.

Everything she loved disappeared. 

The prism light  became her prison. 

She lives now there- 

In the cage, 

All alone. 

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 believes will be broken?! 

What if whatever her belongings are will be looted?! 

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 inside. 

The poetry you see is her broken pieces, 

The unseen battle of spirits she fights! 

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. 

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 remains permanent. 

Only the stillness remains-

After the chaos.

Every sigh weighs heavier than the weight of the heavy earth, 

The globe in me tired. 

So is the world.

The depth is retired, 

So is the lightness. 

Nothing matters but only the amends, 

Understanding the crippled lives made me feel life. 

That, every life matters- whether fast or slow, 

There is no structures, 

In between these can be deconstructed and reconstructed. 

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 left. 

So, the five year old told me,

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 of the lost ones. 

I can talk to the dead,

Walk among them.

I don't want you to die so soon. 

I want you to live and relive-

In love and laughter, 

Again and again. 

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian 

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.

https://farheenancy.com/a-promise-from-fate/