My father’s friend

His brother,

Whose daughter

For me a complete stranger.

 

A 19 something girl

Docile but not fragile,

A smart intelligent girl

Who was just beginning to rise.

 

Staying in an urban city

Away from her parents and family,

She was inching towards her dream

Wanting her achievements to scream.

 

One wintry day, she caught a fever

Nothing much, may be just cough and cold,

A week went by and she lost consciousness

Her family flew to her in all concomitance.

 

A few days in the hospital

And al fell well,

She came back with a little wiggle

To spend some time with family and friends; just like a Belle.

 

A one moth went by

Laughing and living,

And she was preparing to bid god by

Giving slightest thought towards existing.

 

But wait what________

Hospitals and ambulances and doctors and nurses?

Blood freezing in the brains?

Paralytic attacks?

 

But, wait what_________

Coma, you say?

Mind not working

But the heart beating?

 

But, wait what________

The heartbeat stopped?

The body fell rigid

And_______ The End!

 

The father shocked

The brother denies

Her mother

_____She simply cried.

 

Words and consolations are provided

But how could it ever work?

Pity and tears were shared

But the family from inside- was broke.

 

I didn’t realize

Why did it affect me so much?

I had never even met the person

Then why did I lose myself and cry?

 

It bothered me so much

It shook me so much,

I hid myself and cried

I didn’t know how her folks even tried.

 

But the cliché says- the show must go on

But they say- a woman is too sentimental,

But they say_ we draw others troubles and make them their own

Why do you want to mend yourself when the

Wound is not your own.

 

And so I smile

I gather myself and I go to work,

Doing about everything without a murk

But adding to my heart yet another mark of vile.

 

But the wounds is not my own

So I must be left with a little brawn,

And so I begin again to walk the paths of unknown

Welcoming what He next throws from His throne.

 

And because, it was

My fathers’ friends,

His brother, whose daughter

For me a complete stranger.

 

I am just a little shaken

And I know I will reawaken,

I just cannot begin to think

Of the horrendous gloom on them befallen.

 

But since it’s not my wound

What have I to lose_____

She, to me was a complete stranger

But I hope for her to be her own avenger.

 

******

This NAPOWRIMO thing, great so far, I mean to say I am enjoying it. But there is something I have to say now. More like get it out because I can’t keep it in anymore, and also I think if I get it out and share with everyone else, I might as well take things seriously. So last November, I don’t know what happened and I started writing poetry, just for the sake of writing them and many of them still remain unpublished. But Come Jan, I decided that I will try and write one poetry every single day and may be after a few months I will have something I will want to publish, more like I will try to publish. So far, I have stuck with the resolution, of course poetry doesn’t flow every day, but still have stuck with the plan, going against it only occasionally. I really, really want to publish something I write, I don’t care if it’s published by a publishing house or it is self published, but I want that to happen. As I say this now, here, only to make myself more committed towards this, so that I start taking it more seriously. nothing else.

So far, the poetries that involved the Napowrimo, (Except this one) were meant for my book, so if you have read them you can tell me if at all it could ‘EVER’ amount to anything.

In true anticipation of your reviews!!

And please be as much critical as you can be. I will work on whatever is wrong with my work, or me 😉