The moment mocks at me.
It represents the death of all that I believe in.
I smile.
The ghastly artificial smile of one who weeps inside.
All around me are laughing gay faces.
They are rejoicing for me.
They think that they share my moment of joy.
The flowers in their brilliance, the canopy of lights,
the strains of music, the snatches of conversations,
the bright faces, the sheen of silks.
All for my perfect moment in life.
I suddenly absurdly want to laugh.
And cry.
“This is not what I want ” my mind screams
... silently.
I hide my tears.
Have you ever shared a perfect moment with the wrong person ?
- Srividya Srinivasan
October 1998
1 comment:
That comes from the heart, I hope no dreams ever get broken so bad...though reality is much harsher, I know.
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