Souvenir
Souvenir
It wasn't unnatural for me
To overlook
Every aspect of mine
That raised eyebrows.
The age was tender
And little did I know,
What made me rebellious
Should have made me aware,
Aware of the flaws
That blotted my canvas.
Perhaps I knew,
Yet could not accept.
The reluctance to admit
Won the conflict
With the will to improve.
The poison remained,
Stockpiling with time.
My conscience screeched
But never could I
Acknowledge my mistakes.
They grew.
I grew.
And now it was just
A matter of time
Before everything struck
All together,
Mercilessly.
An age-old proverb
Never failed to remind me
That it happened "for" me
And all this while,
Failed friendships,
Unrepairable distrust,
Mutual hatred
And the disbelief
Of ever being wrong
Made my stubbornness feel
That it happened "to" me.
The failure of righteousness
Never bent my spine,
And no relationship could fix it
As clichés would conclude.
Skeptical as I am,
I never believed in karma.
Yet it met me
And not as the "bitch"
Youth proclaims it to be.
Apprehension never came
In bits and fragments.
It came all at once,
Ruthlessly yet mildly.
History has it,
The ones who change thereafter
Reside inevitably in hearts.
While the ones who don't,
Are gifted with an afterlife
Called abomination.
The streets were clear
Yet the pedestrian,
Kept flinching to cross.
The ignorance was clearer
As passersby
"Minded their own business".
That's what most say.
What else could one do?
That's how it works right?
Not an inch
Could I move,
Yet my tears moved several
To reach my chin.
I don't remember moving,
And yet I was near her.
I don't remember crossing,
Though I found myself
Not quite at a destination,
But more at redemption.
Hands clasped
With whose eyes shined
Brighter than usual,
She looked
Through those dark shades,
And all that followed
Was a smile
Reverberating with gratitude.
The tales might now follow
"All the protagonist
Was left with
Was a sense of mirth
And he could do nothing
But rejoice in laughter."
The opposite happened,
And quite strangely,
Tears were all I had
To express my agitation.
That smile was a souvenir
I carry till date
In the deepest crevices
Of my memory,
For conscience needs a stir
And that has been mine,
Ever since.
Mistakes are mutual,
But enlightenment is individual.
I finally knew what hurt me
Were my choices,
People or the path of life.
My route was toxic,
Never did I know
It made me so.
Never did I know
It will be a sweeter route
Knowing that I am toxic
And will find salvation
At the destination.
That was my very route
From one end of the street
To the other.
And now I bind it in this poem,
For souvenirs
Are eternal,
And my choice
Is to wrap my acceptance
With the words
That finally know me
As I was,
As I am,
In a journey
Where I found myself.
The conflict still remains.
Was it me
Who helped?
Or the blind pedestrian?
The conflict brings a smile,
I'm yet to know why.
All I can apprehend
Is that it widens
When I recall my souvenir.