Dead Roses and Dead Soul

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Dead Roses and Dead Soul No one saw his major loss


Every morning 
walking up to miles
he collects roses
with the hope
he can give them to her one day Every afternoon
forgetting disappointments
he collects hope
with the dream 
she will be with him one day Even by the end of the day,
those fading roses on his desk
and depressed soul within him,
both continue to live
with a desire of reconciliation someday Times changed
but she didn’t. His soul continues to breathe
he sprays water to roses
hoping neither of them dies
hoping they both live for one more day
where they can hope for one more. She never came back
she decided she won’t. Roses withered and died
his soul grieved and died.
He buried roses and his soul
with no hope of a further journey
with no desire for tomorrow. All saw dead roses
being sorry for its loss
but the dead soul within him
no one cared to search
and remained invisible forever. Suraj Ghimire 2020 This poem was first posted on https://medium.com/storymake

~~Sometime in dream, Sometime in real life~~ As a mystery~~




Sometime in dream; sometime in realistic life…

From the time of stranger to most closest of my heart,

Being in my life, you stayed here, building small hut;

Every alternate day, in dream, you prepared a new me!

Most of time, as my love, you refracted depth of my sea.

Once upon a time, Black beauty was one of the most horrible chapters of my life. It was a reason for a pain, it was a reason for my tears and it was a reason for my boring Saturday. Didn’t knew why I hated her so much, didn’t knew why I was unable to solve this difficulty, still for many unsaid reason, black beauty was the reason behind many of the inexpressible change in my life…

New Academic session had just begun, and I was upgraded to class four. Statistics of my result had shown that I was getting poorer in my study. In my third standard, I had missed my first division just by one percent, and moreover my ranking had gone unexpectedly below. My principal complained to my mum that “I was not the same student who was brought two years ago in his English school”. Because I had no one to guide in my education, my mum decided to leave me in my school hostel for one year.

Our English teacher was our hostel in-charge. He wanted us to speak only and only in English. Even if one word of “nepali“ was found mixed in the conversation, he used to punish us with a slap in such a way that momentum force produced by this 6 feet Taller giant man used to wet my eye in single stroke. I used to hate him. I hated his strictness and I hated every of his presence in my surroundings. Still because he was a one who had brought a massive improvement in my confidence and personality, I realized he was good teacher of my school life.

First chapter of subject “Gulmohar”, it was black beauty. Black beauty was a name of black horse and it was story of her and her master’s. It was about the lesson taught by her mother of what to do in her master’s house. This 6 page story, printed in “font 8” was a first problem of my hostel life. Though I was improving my grammar, speaking fluently was my regular problem. So the very first day I had entered hostel, my English teacher gave me note of question and answer from this first chapter Black Beauty and he asked me to learn it by heart.



According to routine time table, Sunday morning, first day of week was allotted for gulmohar (in nepal public holiday is on Saturday and Sunday is beginning of weekdays). This means he shall be asking questions from Gulmohar,” And guess what, I never could give him correct answer of even first chapter “black beauty. Sometime a small grammatical mistake, sometime missing of auxiliaries’ verb… and sometime blank out of mind, because standing in front of this giant Hitler was enough to isolate my whole body. And result, a bigger slap! I doubted if he really got tired of beating me for entire 15 months, which was in other hand, longest ever academic year. Because of all these, black beauty was one of the reasons for my painful hostel life; still black beauty was a junction, through which I had rectified myself to found a new talent in me.

After 11 years, black beauty once again re-visited my life. This time, she was not a character of any theoretical book, she was no more a reason of pain, she was no more imaginary and she in herself was never a nightmare.

My first year Bsc, I found someone. That someone appearance was such that for many coming times, I was confused, if she was my own dream-girl who used to come regularly in my dream. From very first moment, she was indeed very special for me and this specialty, it was inexpressible… This stranger used to decorate herself frequently in black dress, and because I never knew anything more about her, I christened her as black beauty. Collecting my immature thoughts, I tried sketching her in my literature. Her beautiful brown hair, her well-matching formal and informal dresses, sweetness and innocent she carried, because of this, black beauty was once again found in paper, not as a part of my college syllabus, as a part of my beautiful life and as a character of romantic story I possessed. However small would be font size of story I write, and however large that story was, I never felt bore in re-reading them. And every time I used to go through them, I had something new to write. I had something more to write about her and I had something to pen down her being here.

Never knew, sketch of black beauty that was kept inside folder of my study table, when did she entered my life? What was the reason of her arrival in my life? As if her presence in my mind was not sufficient, she started visiting my dream every alternate day. Her one appearance in my surrounding, I used to experience myself with a glowing smile in my face. And for some of the unsaid reason, she had reached that corner of my heart where not any girl had ever reached… she was being closer to me, yet I was so far from her, So much far…





But she herself was never aware of this fact; she never knew that she was reason of joyful mind that I carried most of time. Not only as beautiful character of black beauty, as first thought of morning and as last thought of a day, she was for me, she never realized it… She never realized it because I had never expressed it. Nor I had any plan to express it.

Once again, her presence in my story and her arrival in my life had become memorable. Because of black beauty, sometime I used to frighten of first day of week, but then, it seems I had started waiting for a new week to be initiated. I never wanted vacation nor had I wanted Sundays too…

Her every appearance, they were more than noticeable, She was beyond compare. Moreover, variation of quality one can found on her and because of popularity she had in our college, I found myself nowhere in her atmosphere. She already had lots of friends in her life; this means every entry door for stranger was closed. Just like a princess of heaven, she touched me and healed my heart, but as a losing captain of a war, I had nothing to gift my queen. I was helpless and I was simply silent. Yeah, on the way, answering question answer of black beauty as my mind used to be blank in front of my giant English teacher, similarly, the every time she used to rise in my surrounding, I virtually lost my consciousness… Forgetting myself, and forgetting if I had any right to dream about this beautiful girl? That’s why, even in my praying, I never asked black beauty as girl friend or life partner of my life; because I always believed, I was never for her and I never had anything such to be of her.

For some duration, I doubted if it was only her beauty which was the center of attraction. I closed my eyes to close the every ray of light which had carried outer beauty. Surprising, then I found that beauty covering me… I realized, because of her presence, my life itself was aesthetic.

Still, a selfish me! My inability to express myself, and I even couldn’t smile any day in front of this sweet pie. Every time she passed me, unknowingly, a cruel attitude was reflected on me, but in reality attitude had never touched my life. More ever, while she used to pass by me, I forcefully avoided eye contact, just to make her think; she is no more than a stranger for me and my life… To the person we wanted to hug from long time, avoiding eye contact with them when they are in front of us, was the biggest toleration we can resist among ourselves, I learnt it!

Being stranger to somebody closer of our heart, it was painful. And my tighten lips they were never ready to express anything. So I wished, sometime, may those words on paper reach her and may they let her know what she is for me! May they express how closer she is for my heart! May they reflect her importance in my story, and also of my life.

Dear black beauty, sometime in dream and sometime in real life, you have been companying me. For every of those, I don’t know if I will really be able to talk with you any day, don’t know If I will really be able to show your contribution in my life, and don’t know if I will really be able to thank you for what you were, I can say, I will keep on praying for you with my lord to keep you safe and happy throughout your life…

Regards

Suraj

(I wrote this article just to make those life memorable one. If my sweetheart akanksha is reading this, I want to say, you are the one who matters me most today… more than being grateful, I promise, I am loyal to you, and yeah, shall always be… Happy to get you as my life partner… be with me always… love you always…)

Comments

  1. why are you a fanatic of horses and writing an articale bout ur 'love of ur life...? girls ages 5-10 does that.not guys that are like 25 yrs old.. smh

    ReplyDelete
  2. just post something thats significant to our lives.


    bye.

    ReplyDelete
  3. may be u are yet to read full article,
    read it once and u will know it...

    btwn, i guess i know u...!!!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete

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