thepeacebeing

Someone still had this in their mind,

Am I the victim or a culprit?

Knowing the truth I sit idle here,

With all the words just fuckin' banging my ears.

Not able to speak,

Nor able to fake

It feels like a slap on my cheek,

For the mistakes I make and decisions I take.

For the mistake of prioritising emotions than people,

For the decision of adapting every person's emotions.

I am now half sunk in a repent filled pool,

It feels like running away from maturity and going back to school.

Struck between telling the truth and hiding it,

My hands tied, Intutions lied.

Am I the victim or a culprit?

I saw Abhinandan(IAF).

Holding the tears in her eyes she kept feeding me, after which we left from aunt's home taking my luggage to board me in the hostel.

I could sense the pain of my parents, for them leaving me for the first time away from home. Ofcourse being a 12yo kid, it was difficult for me too to accept the truth.

But I stayed strong. I didn't drop a single tear(or not in front of anyone atleast). But for that short span when I was home sick, I got some power.. some strange kind of power to revive myself to normal. May be there was a hope then, to return home after a few years of schooling. As hoped, yes I returned.

It was 2009, and now it's 2019.

Matured, Independent, Stronger.

But when I go back and try to follow the same way to recover from home sickness, that doesn't work. The word 'Hope' which helped me 10 years back couldn't help me now because my mind is struck with the reality.

Reality, of being matured but still immature in taking wise decisions like dad.

Reality, of being independent but still wanting to be dependent for some works which mum does so perfect.

Reality, of being stronger physically and mentally but the heart still feels heavy when I realize the truth of not going home back.

May be the hope which was 10 years back can't rise me up now. But there's always one thing which keeps my 'Josh High'. There's someone there who's older and physically weaker than me but still works and earn buns for the family and there's someone there sitting at home missing me more than I do, more alone, more lonelier, but still talks to me smiling over the phone everytime I call, holding the tears in her eyes..

Both hiding their pain, just because I don't get distracted. I know ther blessings always shower on me, hoping me to go way ahead in life.

Yes you shall regret,

Not for taking others' back but

for the stabs you have stored

for me in the stack.

Yes you shall regret,

If I trusted you someday

for the person who you were,

If you hated me that day

for the person I wish I were.

Yes you shall regret,

I choose to be the bad

But what's the point of my gooodness

if it forces you to be so sad.

Do not worry bro I am not gonna bend

Nor am I afraid of the hundreds

who call you as their friend

This won't end how you wish it to end