There was an infant pink rose budding in the garden.. and I had my eyes on it..
On a pretty day, I reached out my hand to gently touch it.. but its thorns pricked me..
Hurt, I wondered why the pretty rose had pricked me, when I had meant it no harm and when I only liked it so much..
The bud 's hue had grown a richer rose shade.. as though nourished by the drop of blood it had wrung from my hand.It was more blooming and prettier than ever.
And then, Life glided along, pale-faced and thin-lipped but beautiful.. She had a wise forehead.. and looked at me with a wistful mouth and sorrowful eyes and whispered "Have u learned?"
"Learned what?" I wondered..
She shook her pretty dark head sadly and disappeared.
I saw her again, the day my kitten died.
He was just 7 weeks old.. I could easily hold him in the palm of my hand, if he would sit still.. which he rarely did.
He was lying stiff and still, outside our gate, all its playfulness and vivacity gone.. with a wicked hole on its tiny hind leg..
Sobbing my heart out, I felt a cold hand on my forehead.
I looked up and then there she was, looking at me pityingly..
"People die, day in day out.. Mothers loose children.. Children loose parents.. People get killed, not knowing why.. and die without saying goodbyes. And you cry over your kitten?"
I looked at her in awe and dried my silly tears..
"Have you not learned yet?" she asked me softly..
"What?" I mumbled..
"Have u not learned that the living die and that they struggle while they live.
Have u not learned that, just as u feel joy, so shall u feel sorrow..
And while joys disappear as soon as they come, sorrows linger.
Therefore, stop feeling. Harden your mind.
Be immune to the early rays of the sun, thus u will be immune to the thunder and storm..
Focus! Calculate! Schedule! Your profits alone should be your goal.."
I recited these wise but cold words in my mind, till I knew it by-heart..
But still.. the rays of the rising sun filled me with joy each time it rose.
Grey clouds darkened my days when they came.
Dew drops and rain drops brought music and fresh life.
Thunder, Lightning and Storm brought fear and despair.
Roses delighted, thorns pricked..
I felt afresh every joy, every sorrow, sense of pride, regret, laughter, anger, despair, hope, life and monotony.
Life met me, now and then.. and each time we met she was more beautiful and alluring.
But the sorrow of her eyes had evolved into bitterness...
And the wistfulness of her mouth had grown into a cruel smile...
"Have u not learned?" she kept asking..
"No.. not yet.."
She would laugh haughtily at me.. and walk away in scorn, still looking beautiful.
She grew more cruel and tyrannical as time went on..
She pummeled me, tripped me unawares and would shriek "Have you not learned?!"
"No.. not yet.." I would reply.
Her eyes had become blood shot.. her lips were blood red and stood out against her pale glowing skin.. She was beautiful still.. but cruel.
At times, she amused herself by laying a heavy hand on my shoulder and sending me staggering down to my knees..
"Have u not learned?"
"No.. not yet"...
And then I saw her one day..
She had the eyes of a fanatic.. frenzied.. lost
Her mouth was that of a vampire.. surviving on human pain.
In the fading light, her pale skin glowed luminously..
Her dark head was all tumbled down in unkempt curls..
She fell on me with madness and slapped me.
Threw me down with mad force.. and dragged me over the rough pavements..
She kicked me mercilessly and I heard the crunching sound of broken bones..
She laughed coldly... and asked me "Have you not learned yet?"
"No... not yet." My voice sounded so distant.. tired and weak but firm
"I am willing to cry, in order to have the power to smile..
I dont want to shut my eyes on joy, glory and good for fear of sorrow, gloom and evil.
While I live, I want to live, not merely exist...
I have not learned.. Nor shall you ever teach me"
"The more the fool you are" she spat on my face laughing scornfully.. and left me
Then there was darkness..
Time ticked on in the iced stillness...
And then, from somewhere distant and yet nearby, I heard a sorrowing soulful and ethereal music...
Are not broken flutes mute? Can they utter notes? I think, no..
Yet, I knew that this was the muted music from a broken flute..
It floated around me in vacuum and encompassed me, welling with the agony of un-despairing hope...
