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I belong....

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    I belong....


    The truth of it hurts. So I continue to embrace the lies that have forever assisted me in pacifying myself that I am “home” and “safe”. Each minute I remind myself of the bright side of the carefully painted portrait of my home. I stare at it for hours, pondering; losing myself in the never ending colors.

    Is black a color? It seems to be a very evident part of the picture. It lies all over even in the brightest of parts. But then I tell myself that “is” the most important part of it. If it wasn’t for the darkness lurking around I wouldn’t value the light so much. I continue to dream this way, the paint brush in my hand extends further and further…time disappears sometimes.

    My eyes shut
    As I stand before
    The perfectly imperfect

    The image of a thousand lives
    The lives of those who crave
    A world deeper than their own
    That pushes reality away.

    My illusions support me in the journey through my self-created world. I carefully weave the safety net around me that consisting of my loved ones whose reassuring hands touch my shoulders.

    I stand in front of the mirror with that idea in my mind; the delusional dimension. I see something more though….something I live “in”. I visit reality at times; no matter how much the shackles of society restrain me, I pull away. They all believe I live in my own bubble of nothingness and therefore accept me with disdain. But they know better they always have, yet turn their heads away.

    I try to be ignorant too just like them so that they accept me. But I’m reminded of myself. I listen to the voice that calls out to me from within. It screams at me telling me I am not a creation of God if I can’t listen to my heart or mind. I am turning myself into a creation of them. I step out of my body. I burst the bubble that secures me from reality and I walk through.

    The moment I step out I feel a hand grasp my leg tightly not allowing me to move. I look down at a pair of wide-open, hopeful eyes; the hollowness in them scares me. Compelling me to want to run back but I ignore this impulse. I bend down; stare into them for the longest time. They contain the warmth that makes my heart experience something I can’t begin to define. I see the frail body of the eyes possessor now, there are no legs, what’s left of them is scattered all over the place. I find the ear of the entity that holds me like a blanket and whisper, “At least you don’t have to wear expensive uncomfortable shoes for others, “sit” back and relax”. A small smile emerges, makes me feel triumphant.

    As I walk on I think to myself, they are just like us then why the distinction? The question troubles me digging a hole in my heart where it meets the soul.

    Up ahead I see one of the most beautiful flowers I have ever sighted. I am in awe; can Reality have so much color as well? My stride quickens as I reach out to feel its soft petals; my mind is already swimming in its scent. My nose senses its soothing effect. But when my hand moves to touch it, it crumbles into a thousand pieces. I hear a whimper somewhere around me. I turn around to find a little girl standing, her look accuses me. I am perplexed at the entire situation. A rose so stunning “breaks”; an innocent child cries. My mind swirls I look at her questioningly. She points at a space where I see a mound of wet earth and a lot of color that stains the ground. I feel a tear form in my eyes. Guilt takes over, who was I kidding? I just tore her world apart. The only hope of beauty was that imaginary rose and I snatched it away from her.

    My mind betrays me and the words vanish. There is nothing I can say to make her feel better. I walk over to the place she was working in. She follows me and doesn’t allow me to cross over. It hits me; walking outside the bubble was not the real ordeal it was breaking the wall of hate in their hearts that was required. I stir my hand searching for hers. She doesn’t need me, I need her. My eyes speak to her, assuring her that it is me who in need. She is taken aback by my expression and she gives it to me. Pulls me down and says, “There is nothing more I “can” offer.”

    My journey has turned into an experience of a lifetime. As I move on I am suddenly screamed at. I avert my eyes to find a man staring at my face. His eyes are swollen and his expression is somewhat confused. But his expression doesn’t go with his body movements. All of a sudden he begins to laugh uncontrollably. He feels me and moves back. I turned to walk away but he stops me. He says to me in a soft voice, “You are real.” I was appalled at those words, did he mean my journey to the other side made me real or my existence was real? He replies, “I dream with my eyes open; hence I’m crazy. But I dreamt about you and you stand here today. I dreamt about reality.”

    The final instance baffles me. I am left astounded. I have seen the other side of my world; the darker truth and I have been hidden away from. I am a part of two worlds but limited to one.

    I look down
    At the dirty water
    That shows me my real face
    The ripples dividing my form

    They slowly come together
    I feel….I belong.

    Re: I belong....

    Originally posted by Dania_2000:
    The great fire of London?


      This is really nice...
      Focus not on who you are but what you do...


        beautifully written.
        Din-e-Mullah fee sabeelillah fasad (Allama Iqbal)