HOPELESS FAITH All those times, I tried convincing myself Not to ever mind your eccentric smiles If only you could dance beats in the auditorium With everyone watching from a mile The ‘if’ relationship we had At last was all my fantasy A fantasy of you patting my head And not cry over questioning my pain Several times I got hit with reality When I was immersed in my own insanity If only you had offered your hand for me While crossing the stream and not laugh with your stupid mates At the drenched me If only you could see my weary eyes while you stare If only you could hear me cry before waving a goodbye But those all I had was a fantasy Like a fake that would never fly.
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PLURAL
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Plural. It is nothing but a mere word of grammar. But for me it is a symbol of Cruelty. It won’t spare me in moments of pleasure or grieve, always reminding me of the loneliness I carry. It marks me with a feeling of contempt, for I have failed to procure someone for my fable, my story. I resent the use of plural, it hadn’t left me since my teens because world doesn’t expect you to have an incomplete bit. Judging eyes follow me wherever I go because they got the answer as a NO. While all my friends went out to eat with their “parents”, I ate with my “parent” and just like that I am a lost entity not an individual but an untended liability. People. It’s always the people labelling the exceptions of order set by them as something unkempt, something not normal. Cancer doesn’t understand the substantiality of “plural” it takes with it what it wants plural or not. Time made me accustomed to the gap that I’ll always have to live with in my life but people, they are there to remind me e...