I Wish...

I love to wake up early and watch the sun rising over the distant horizon. When I walk bare feet over the morning’s green grass, I feel its wetness slowly seeping into me. I adore the lovely rose, with crystal dewdrops over its scarlet petals till a voice calls out my name. I wonder if mumma used to sing when she was young. Her voice is so melodious, especially when she calls out my name. Maybe this is probably why she has named me so. Or did dad give me my name? I don’t care till I get to see them smile at me every morning. But the day they are mad at me, I call up my best friend. Life without him seems so difficult. His words, always full of consolation, never fail to soothe me. But will I get to hear his words forever? I wish I could. But he is not my only friend. I have other friends too for whom I pack my bag for college daily. They smile at me, talk to me, entertain me, fight with me, hug me, criticize me, praise me, encourage me and though they don’t say it often, I know they love me. Will I be able to see these smiling faces forever? I wish I could. Sometimes, strangers tell me the bus numbers, show me the proper ways and a few of them smile at me. It is then that I realize that the world is beautiful. But will this beauty be for me, forever? I let the sunset sun awe me with its redness. I see the night crawling into the sky, making it shift from a violet to a dark grey and then to the deepest of darkness. And as the stars take their places slowly and mysteriously, I realize that the words, the voices, the smiles and the beauty will remain. It is I who will not be there for them forever. After all, it is not for others that I was born. I wasn’t born to adore flowers- no, not the least to smile crazily at people. I wasn’t born to keep within me a thousand secrets just to make sure the voices keep sounding melodious and the faces keep looking pretty. A thousand questions toggle my mind now and then and fade away unanswered. I wasn’t born to let questions leave disappointed.

I am tired of wishing for things. I am tired of thinking that flowers bloom for me and the birds sing for me. The sunsets now ooze out of my veins, giving birth to the reddest of roses over my wrist while the warmth of relations evaporates leaving me shivering. And for the last time I wish for something. I wish that my soul be liberated.