BASRAH, WHERE MANY WAYS COME TOGETHER

By BASRAH HASAN RIZVI

Over the course of passing years I’ve been constantly negotiating with the energy that circulate the dominating nature of my actual Aura.

How it ; the pitying nature capitalizes its own words, façade disguises over and over.

How long live experiences had proven the fact repeatedly with no opening to let any argument reside in.

That when for years the narrator had become a ‘no’ choice from being a ‘second’ choice. A demotion.

Narrating when a specific time period of kindergarten when she became the lead dancer for the practice sessions, a small bribe of chocolate made her position replaced with xyz in the main performance because she was easier to manipulate.

Also when for years she was kept in dark for not letting her have the annual award in order to give others chances while a certain person had it for continuous multiple years.

Not to forget when often she was declined for something solely because she was not the prettier one.

Not to mention the verity of the fact that her unrequited love story ended up with her having no contact while all others still did.

And certainly not to forget the fact that when camaraderie offered her a choice, it was always the leftovers for even choices never chose her.

Somber attitude filled her from every corner though failed to outshine her smile.

Magically one certain day she was told, to comfort her, that she’s certainly so great that people may feel excited at first to protect her at all cost. However, eventually succumb to the fate of hurting her by leaving her as always with a intermediate bribe of unfulfilled promises each and every time.

It’s not her fault as is neither theirs.

And the fact that this advice was a soliloquy for there’s no comfort for her in this world. Or more accurately in this era.

That even though her name suggests she connects ways which she does, where many ways come together ; a rendezvous point.

Did anyone ever wonder, where she’d run off to when scared or lonely?

Did they ever wonder who she calls for when on the brink of life and death situations?

Or perhaps they passed by the rendezvous point with huge bribe of words this time. And every time.

~ basrahh

By BASRAH HASAN RIZVI