Catharsis

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Her dance continued....

while I watched the marbled floor turn red
"hope" is a sweet poison!
I waited like a frog in boiling water..
to come to terms with the rising temperature

The blows kept getting harsher
Her weapons of choice getting deadlier
Every wound was gushing red
The paintings watched...
as she threatened to exsanguinate me

The dying self respect...
heaved its last cry
Like a dying man's last breath
unable to say its last goodbye..
twitches every muscle for an ounce of strength

I dashed out the door
with no where to go
She had been my caretaker
That room had been my tomb
Outside...I was deserted
An island uninhabited inspite of all its beauty..

And so the fire burned...
with heaving jungles and roaring rivers
The flames kissed my wounds
I knew they would destroy a part of me
But they will also cauterize...

I returned one last time..
Not to watch her dance
she was gone
But only to burn those paintings
and the silken curtains
with their horrified glances

As each painting burnt..
I heard its cry in crackling fire
I felt its pain in its greenish-blue despair
And then its peace as it turned to ash...

Bit by bit....each memory came
and submitted itself to the flames
Each sleepless night gathered around
and was offered its purgation.
I left the smoldering ruins
meandering through the rivers...escaping to  the ocean...
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day after day....

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Regular,

Mundane,

Monotonous...

These define his life. No adventure everyday, no lurking dangers at every step...nothing like a movie seen or a story told.

What keeps it going are these daily chores and brick-a-brack.

Waking up to an irritating alarm,

Rushing through breakfast to get to work on time,

Complaining about life,

A romantic evening with his love,

And those regular fights over petty things...

And yet he goes satisfied and content to his bed at night.

Everyone despises him and yet...

They all carry a part of him.

He is the face to their harsh reality

The reality they try to dissolve...

In fake laughs of achievements,

Merry making,

And their adventures (so called).

But he enjoys it all

His every day is a struggle,

Like the great war...

A war against himself,

Day after day...going through the same routine

He wakes up to his monotonous life

Coz yet again its just another day...

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