Very Simply Put

By Shruti Shah

In search

for a trade

profiting

the injured

in our

ever so

capitalistic economy,

I walked

the incongruous

Defiant street.

A state of

absolute defiance

for the reins of my life

laying in

the hands of melancholy,

I reached towards

My apathetic soul

exclusively not apathetic

in yearning to heal.

I heavily despised

the state of my mind

being controlled by the uncontrollables.

I wanted

to

fight for my happiness

as I believed

I deserved it.

And so

I walked

and walked

and walked

carrying the heavy me

in the streets

of my city.

I heavily despise

the state of my mind

being tamed.

Yes I do,

I heavily mind

feeling like

one of those

with

nothing to confide

in

every time

my eyes shut

to open again

they do so

in the hope

of seeing a better shade

of the same old grey.

It’s all

I, I, I

and

me, me , me

that consume my mind.

The search for a meaning

of why

this

animal body

of mine

was placed

on this planet

in the first place.

Being breathes into me life.

a corporeal

entity

makes the life

so much more

than

just an end

to an

unasked for

beginning.

Thus,

longing for answers,

sighing hard

each time

my material body

wandered

and wandered

and wandered

in the streets

of my

made-up city

called

Made Up.

I entered

not knowing

my spirit

was being tampered

as soon as I entered.

Anthropocentric,

I looked around.

And everything

I wanted to exist

in real life

existed

in this reality.

Is reality limited

to things

that are

real?

Or am I

allowed

to create

my own meanings

of the words

whose meanings

were once

created

too?

By animals

like me

who knew nothing

true.

Isn’t truth

as a concept

very conclusive

in nature?

A reductionist approach

to things

that might

stand

for some thoughts

beyond comprehension

of a human brain.

It is very little I thought

what human beings

make of things.

Beyond the limits of wisdom

lay a land of life

unscrutinized.

Upon discovering that

the unearthly earth

begged my exile.

The looking around ceased.

I knew

I belonged here.

A here

solely mine.

Known to

and fathomable by

me,

only me.

not the others,

none of them;

none of those fellow animals

who share

the same biology

as me.

On that,

the self-assigned queendom,

I found

a shop

that guaranteed healing.

In I walked

with the fastest walk

I’ve ever walked

as in there lay

a promise

that the world promises lay

in love and faith.

The nameplate read:

For seekers.

A paroxysm

flooded

the train of my thought.

A disruption to my sense of sanity,

A buzzing mosquito to my coherence,

it disconnected me

from the sense that I was making

about the two words: For seekers

that lay intrusive

on a rusty sky blue wooden plate

Many centimeteres above my head,

beyond the grasp

of my tender human paw,

the right one.

The reason for the eruption I thought.

My cortisols,

I theorized,

vehemently rejected their release.

For language neophytes,

I was,

fundamentally

and very simply put,

nervous.

So nervous.

My wounds

couldn’t take

no more band-aids.

All they wanted

was the owner of the shop

to heal their aches

but the fear

of being let down

yet again

made the body hesitate

and shaken to its core

as hope comes with a price

too insurmountable to bore.

The paroxysm ceased.

I put myself together

like a person of sound mind,

refusing to give away

one more of their pal,

an already endangering community.

all sorted

and aware

of their action

I went in.

O what a futile escape

as nobody gives a fuck

about my visit

to an illusioned state.

O what a hoax

the world cast,

yet again

on its inhabitant-

an ardent admirer

of all its colors,

A liberal at heart.

O and how my fool soul

fell prey

to the most

hopeful of follies.

By Shruti Shah