The Question

Questions, more or less are up to bother us and put us in situations unbearable and frustrating. Here are some, we usually come across either daily or at some point in life where situations makes us question ourselves.

​The question isn’t, how you held the blade, but why you held the blade. And moreover why did you cut with it.

The question isn’t, what makes you vulnerable, but why does it make you so, because being open and being vulnerable to something or someone is rare today.

The question isn’t, why you didn’t learn from the past experience, but why you refused to accept even after learning from it.

And the question isn’t, why you don’t trust people because you’re hurt, but what makes you trust others even after it being crumbled, trashed and broken.

We have day that we count until the ultimate truth of life, ‘Death’, welcomes us. We turn days to nights and nights to days, do we live freely in all those phases or does any of it makes us happy?

Do we let ourselves lose and listen to the sweet melodies of that bird singing, or are we too annoyed by the honking cars to even put our ears in the direction of such melodies.

They say poets and artists and writers are sunky.

I ask why? Why, because we don’t think practically enough to make ourselves inhuman.

Why? Because thoughts and empathy has piled us in?

Or, because we aren’t self centred or self driven by the goals of I, me and myself?
Or do we beautify every little thing, and that fact sores your throat?
We beautify pain, and heartbreaks, and sadness and love and war. 

Because, today, we are here to live. We are here to love and we are here to understand God’s own creation.

At times we fail, at times we can beautify everything but humans and, we fail.

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