The Masquerade Ball Of Imperfects

By Anubhuti Saha

And the masquerade ball continues

Can you at-least see me through

It’s a game of peek a boo

We all loved from the time of Tom and Jerry to Winnie the Pooh

Previously it was just a game in life

Now it’s a game of life, which we all go through

All dressed up fancy with a mask to put on to

Hiding all the jitters inside the fancy gown of glitters

Amidist of all the glitters in the ballroom, it’s the glittering eyes that mattered

Asking again, can you at-least see me through

For some unknown reason

All my Gray Matter wanted to be is, in sync with the colour grey

So, I painted my gown grey

May be because, at the end of the day, you are nothing but a shade of grey

Again, filled with the music of silence, the masquerade ball continued

Among the dance of skeletons made of rust,

your presence is a must, as it’s equivalent to a sprinkle of pixie dust

Some moments with you were a Déjà vu, as if it was meant to be true

Wrestling its way through, although it was an impromptu

So, the masquerade ball continued, in a journey of

life from imperfect to I am perfect for you.

By Anubhuti Saha