Here Is How I Feel Inferior

When I pine for you, for just one look and one smile from you, I make a lot of noise by writing pedantic poems, telling you all that goes on in my heart and head, but always afraid that this very telling, this very writing, is driving you away from me, but unable to control myself. Like how a spider scurries to the life that just landed in its web, and spins and spins its web around it so much and so persistently that in the end all we see is a thickly veiled whimper, invisible to the world.

Then I listen to this. You fade away. My ties to you are loosened. My eyes lift up from you to the horizon, seeing a reflection of my true me, refracted through the prism of other lives shattered in these times. Why can’t I be like this vocalist, like this raagam, bringing life to its listeners?

Raag Bhimpalasi by Ashwini Bhide Deshpande.

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