Wednesday, June 8

An Unconventional Birthday Wish

Dear Stuti,
I am substituting this little verse for the traditional "Happy birthday to you, enjoy your day" post on your wall, a 140-character tweet or a forwarded text message. I know it's a little unconventional way to wish someone "happy birthday", but here it goes.
Hope you like it.

It was
the seventh day
of the month sixth. A hushed cry
echoed through the busy corridors. It drowned
in the metal clicks, hurried footsteps, the squalls
and hollers. Amid all these
she was born. Much like
a little angel in the
face of the earth. It was
a happy day.

Days passed. The cries
grew louder and clearer. Soon weeks,
months and years passed. The cries
transformed into a smile. Myriad colors
sparkled in her eyes. They
spoke of dreams. It was
a beautiful smile.

The early years. Blossom,
wind, rains and heat
witnessed her. With the winds,
she ran freely. She played hard, sang
kicked, cried, scratched
and laughed. She threw pebbles
in freely flowing freshets. She watched
as the sun set and one by one the pebbles
drowned to the depths. They were
the curious years.

Education came through. Both formally
and with experience. Soon
she realized, the cruel
face of the world. Dreams
shattered. Innocence vaporized
like a sole drop of water
resting on a rough surface
in a warm summer afternoon. The shadows
on the wall grew long. She suffered
and agitated. That was
when she learned to live with compromises.

She didn't believe in magic. Before
she met him. When
she had never expected things to get
any better. He came as
a wave of fresh air. Like a firefly
dancing in endless darkness. She grabbed
his hands. His tender touch. She will never forget
her first kiss. The warmth
the promises, the glee.
The nights spent wondering
if anything can
ever go wrong. They were
the wonder years.

The skies turned gray. The unlikely
happened. They weren't
together anymore. All of a sudden
the tree of her happiness
was uprooted it seemed. Her dreams
slayed. Although she knew
crying wouldn't help, she
couldn't stop herself. The endless nights
now she spent wondering, If
there ever would be a sparkle
of sunlight in her purposeless life. She stopped
believing in magic. They were
the times of self discovery.

four and twenty fine years have passed since
the hushed cry had echoed
in the busy corridors. Time has been
a cruel teacher. But the lessons learned
are like the pearls collected
from the surface of deep ocean. She has emerged
from the dark ocean, strong
and victorious. As she is reading
these lines, surrounded by
endless candles and innumerable
well-wishers by her side, I urge her
to take a moment and flash that smile,
that beautiful smile which everybody
is so used to adore. To
remember those dreams,
which once sparkled in her eyes.

- Pavan
7th June, 2011.


stuti bhadauria said...

Pavan, so touched I am. Thanks. :)
PS:- i'd love to read some more poems on ME *kidding* :D

Pavan Daxini said...

Wow, thanks! Your single comment means so much to me!

Why, I'd consider the effort successful. :D

Shilpi said...

hey Mr. Daxini..awesome work..or i shall better not call this a work..rather.;)
i guess u'll understand..ryt???;)