A Story of the Bug and The Wisdom Tree

 

Yes, we had love but it couldn’t evolve.

Evolve into the quiet one that would prevent storm.

We both lived in different dorm in different form,

Where we could no longer recognize who we are to each other,

We have outgrown the need of being together ... 

But, however, it is also beautiful. 

A beautiful ending. 

We have surpassed the need of being visible. 

But, quietly we hold place in each other's memory. 

Regret?! 

Possibly. 

Or not. 

Regret that we could bloom into a beautiful flower if only the ground was soft and the humid conditions gave chance,

Chance to pollinate each other's womb of thoughts. 

If only we could speak to each other's mind, 

Read each others' soul's language. 

We could unite into a beautiful song. 

But, anyways the song would always have sad lyrics, 

As our roots were not solid. 

The roots of intentions. 

Polluted intentions colliding each other broke the destined union, alas! 

I wanted to be your prayer but you chanted me as a black spell.

If only you could understand........! 

If a tree lacks wisdom of it's growing, 

It's prescient that he will not contain it's own fruit.

It must be selfless only to be known as the bearer of the fruit.

The fruit also can't taste itself, 

It's made for others. 

The roots were meant to grow into seedlings,

Seedlings blossoming into a tree of wisdom.

Thus, the bug reappears,

And, the fruit of wisdom has becomes forbidden.

The bug whispers-

Devour it! 

Consume what you have atleast for the last time, 

For the sake of tasting something unique,

What was baned become banal after tasting. 

You and I were destined to grow apart,

For we have different routes.

You have grown into a whispering bug,

I have evolved into a tree of wisdom,

I deny the fruit I bear-

For I know It's not for me. 

Detachment has become my goal whereas attainment had been yours, 

I do not possess but I surrender-

I surrender my ego for it to dissolve into the fangs of scorpion,

And, foams of sea, 

Only to return as an aisle. 

Welcome to my emotional graveyard, 

Where you are just another dead body.

A flawed sand watch -

That didn’t know when to stop and start,

Run to the rythm, 

Sands drizzling and slipping away,

The clock didn’t know much sand it had,

How many moments, hour or time was left! 

Leftover time!

Uh, stale than the leftover rice! 

It stinks the more you smash into, 

You cannot churn a forged steel into a beautiful vase, 

It's baseless,

You cannot join the broken pieces of the vase and anoint it with beautiful nameplate! 

How liminal you are human - Recognize it!

I wish if I could tell the world- 

Tell them how much Eve was exploited by the whisperer bug and the glitches for just being a dreamer, 

What price did she paid for her dream to know it all- the dismissal from the paradise.

Perhaps, it was for her own good-

Paradise is for the ignorant  and she refused to live in the world of illusions, 

Instead, bare foot she faced the real world with chronic illnesses.

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian (Nancy) 

Time Frame: 3.50 am, Mirpur Cantonment.