Sunday, June 03, 2007

A song of sixpence

I am very cruel he tells me.

I like hearing of personal despair.

Tell me more.

I broke so many hearts.

This is a story of personal vanity I realize with a pucker.

But I like those too. My life is often filled with other people's living.

And what happened... to all the broken hearts?

I never cared.

Typical, I tell him.

But I now want to... To measure the hurt of the past. To take stock of the loss.

What if there wasn't any?

And his look- of scornful, confident youth. Of good looks and black sparkling eyes.

And we both know, there must have been.

Smiling he tells me contentedly, I am so cruel.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Reluctance; Acceptance; Indifference; Faith!

When you look back to count the hearts you have broken, the only words you tell yourself: "Was that me? No, No, I could never do it."

Then you realise, it was actually you, and you show indifference towards events of the past...

Then faith with umpteen number of vows..."I will never do it again..."

Yet, the next time you count the hearts you have broken, you find the number has increased!

Wonder Why?
- :)

1:22 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hi poornima,

you could never ever end beneath a train, but getting heart(s) broken - a great leveller. the squeal and the crunch does not provide for the kick. the sight of colourless blood seeping and searing below the skin, does bring about a hue and a high. need not count back, just mock at the future. faith in indifference overrides all guilt. wonderful writings. the wall requires a fresh coat every week.

8:14 PM  
Blogger Dev Nair said...

One who respects Bridge can never afford to break Hearts.

11:56 AM  
Blogger dharmabum said...

aal dees heart breaking is a whole loada crap, methinks ;)

5:41 AM  
Blogger Sudarshan. A. G. said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

1:59 AM  
Blogger Sudarshan. A. G. said...

Is that only 'you'? I thought that was the constant refrain of our gender.

2:02 AM  

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