Impression

By Aarshia Ray

Life is a turbulent dream

We don’t understand it

Why people come, why people go

Why they become friend or foe

Why they carry the burden they heave

Why they stay or why they leave.

There are some whose eyes twinkle

As they turn to you,

A half-smile, a shy laugh,

The look of longing

Melancholia intermingled with ecstasy;

They want you.

They think of you when the sun shines

Gently on the greenest grass.

When the breeze blows,

And tousle their hair

As butterflies sway on flowers,

Or like waves in the ocean

Who tumble against each other

To compete for the sight of the sky.

And when the autumn leaves kiss their shoulders

They think of the way you smiled at them.

When the night comes upon

And thunder strikes,

They think of your eyes

The glint in the dark

The lamp of the Universe: their Universe.

And you never think twice about them.

And there are some who despise you

Their noses scrunching up

As they take in your face.

They move away when you walk by

Jealousy and fear driving each other

Or perhaps selfish hearts feeling superior.

To them, your presence is akin to

The Sun punishing the Earth

When it glares and strikes,

The feeling of bees swarming down on them

Stinging, painful; helpless agony

Shooting through their veins

So they turn their backs on you

And mock you, and scorn you

Frown at you,

Loathe you,

Hate you.

But oh no, you love running after them, don’t you?

By Aarshia Ray