I, an independent and complete word in itself.
A poem around ‘ I ‘
I cried hard and they declared I was born,
In pain, in pool of blood, smiled a sweet face,
I recognized not her, not anyone,
Outside the womb, I liked the lights,
Everything around seemed magical,
Soon I saw some happy faces around me,
They hugged me, kissed me,
But all I did was I cried and I slept.
Gradually I crawled and then ran in few years,
I was known as a girl,
My parents fondly gave me a name too,
I felt safe and protected in their presence,
They loved me and pampered me,
And soon I was addicted to their love.
The world to me was them,
And I was the apple of their eye.
A few years more, I studied and played,
I was innocent and had been growing on Cindrella and Snow White,
I fancied dreamland and fairy lands,
It was all about love around me,
But as the days grew on me I realized,
Things were complex,
Not everyone loved everyone,
More than ‘us’ everyone loved talking about I,
Soon I learnt my things to say too.
There was a race, there was confusion,
Everyone was chasing the unending, the unknown,
Was it desire?
I wanted to hear my inner voice,
I did not want to join the crowd,
But what I wanted did not always happen,
They said it was God who had planned for I
I soon wanted to know,
Who am I? Why was my purpose here on earth?
I frantically looked for my answer,
And I searched…
And I am searching…