A Director's Ordeal

How long do you imagine you can hold that tug of war?

From both the ends?

Holding onto something is exhausting.

Without even involving any physical activity.

Isn’t it strange how we manage to spare time for something;

Where we aren’t even performing at the moment!

It's just a mixtape replaying again and again in the mind.

Without the targeted audience, just a director sitting back on his chair

Lonely one night and scrutinizing his play.

Picking out the flaws and contemplating how nice it would look

Had it been the other way around

“The way my conviction to see it transformed stays rent free on my mind on other days.

But not on nights like this.

I show up at his doorstep and extend my hand for the check, costing him every penny of his prolonged stay.”

With palms clenching every inch of the rope tight

Keeping viewers at the edge of their seat,

The bad-mouthing, the cries of the two contenders treat their eyes.

People who stake nothing into it and neither are they going to sympathize with the loser.

Back to the director on the edge of his seat 

To see whether his actors imitate the details which he mentioned the other day.

The balance between something necessary and unnecessary is relative.

They say it’s upon us to keep the balancing scale aligned to the ground;

Aligned to the ‘ground’ reality of what’s required and what’s not

So leaving the rope and falling instead may draw humiliation,

Than clenching it hard enough to expose one’s nerves.

But is winning really important?

Could the mixtape in his mind ever play the song of satisfaction;

Which for once wasn’t linked to winning?

Does he ever reminisce the happiness of talking freely with his crew

And set aside his hat for a moment?

Maybe, he does.

But here, happiness pays a rent to live in his mind

And comes with a lease to stay with him forever.