Sometimes I think
to fictionize myself
as that trendy girl
making my life
little bit daedal
little bit elemental
sometimes I feel
to vomit out complexity
believing mystery is what
you love to solve.
The inquisitive mystery in
my vibrant lipstick
my blackish mascara
or the pinkish blusher.
with me in salacious dress.
Sometimes my heart
makes me to believe
innocence can never
give birth to mystery.
Simplicity cannot shout
for it is always confined
in some rigid walls of mind.
May be I hold somewhere
some misleading, absurd,
foolish and adulterated
definition of ‘innocence’ and ’simplicity’.
Everyone shouted
to change, to adapt to be a
pixyish, whimsical woman.
I tried and grossed out
“I have to change to get love”
But that was not easy
not because
my trail was not vigorous
but because
I have started to think
“How I will hold the end?”
They can make me to learn
the game rules
and how to play
creating mysterious mystery.
But I am the only one
to end the game.
For I always feared void, end,
the end – beginning of nothingness.
For I always love to play the game
with my heart and my soul.
I will be the loser
in both the ways.
Sometimes I think,
If I give my hand to you,
You will surely hold it
not because you want to hold it for life
but because you want to help me
to cross the road.
Sometimes I wonder
‘crossing the road’ is
far better and simpler
than creating the mystery to seize you!
The Purple Drizzle 