Sometimes I feel my words are like a prostitute and I the pimp. They have to sell themselves to feed my tummy. But they haven’t gone out there in the world to hook, bait and entice from long. They now have no customers. Maybe they don’t know how to market themselves well and are thus without lovers. Behind the reckless façade, they are vulnerable to let themselves show for no one seems to understand. They are laughed at, mocked but mostly ignored. Will someone come looking for them, I ask myself. Someone come and rescue them from this darkness? There really cannot be any rescuers. This might be their fate. Soon they will be hiding behind a veil scared to even reveal themselves for rejection can take its toll on any soul.
Unless I decide to rescue them now, unless I decide to stop putting a price on their head, unless I decide to start looking for other things to sell; to earn my livelihood. But No, this is my bane. For I know they are worth more. For their sake, I have to believe that they will find their admirers who will come free them, and carry them away to their lovers. For I know I am their lover too who can and will set them free...
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2 comments:
I was at a great concert a couple of years ago. Two great singers, fairly old and very distinguished, had traveled a great distance, and were arguably tired. They sang beautifully, the audience responded. One of them said, "Hum to Kuch bhi nahi, Yeh to Woh gawa raha hai" (We are nobody, HE is making us sing).
Wow. Thats sweet. Thanks Anup.
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