My Muse Almost Got Strangulated

 

words my muse loves
In love with words

She has been wandering around too much, meeting strangers, expecting appreciation, gloating at her beauty and intellect as she reclined leisurely in the glorious sunshine, having abandoned the shadows recently.

Having emerged from her poetic alleys, she got bolder and her escapades with young adventurers almost throttled her as she refused to wear modest garments…some of which seemed incandescent to her new friends. They tried to impose their opinion on her, telling her not to push people away with her ‘excessive alliteration’ and ‘lengthy’ words, guiding her to be humble and simple.

It was too much for the one who has never been snubbed, who likes to boss around, considering herself to be a spontaneous charmer.

She came home disappointed and has been sulking.

‘I hate you’, she looked me in the eye and scowled. I just smiled, which agitated her further. She threw all she had in her pockets at me and scampered away.

Yesterday I saw her, sitting by her favorite creek. I continued my walk, pretending obliviousness but she followed me, igniting new ideas in my mind. I invited her to sit down to have a healthy conversation. She agreed nonchalantly.

‘Would you like a cup of tea,’ I tried to diffuse the situation.

‘I don’t like judgmental people. What do they know about me? How could they condemn me?’ She often blurts like that and I was well prepared to calm her down.

I nodded most lovingly and tried to explain that we don’t have any control over the demeanor of people. She shot me a dagger like glance and espoused her view: ‘why can’t you use the word ‘behavior,’ which such people understand better.’ That’s what they want. That’s why they criticize me.’

‘Critics add another dimension to our personality. Take it in a positive manner. We don’t need to change our style just because others want us to. Let’s bless our critics, as we owe gratitude to them for being our readers.’

Discerning my sermonizing mood, my muse chose to step into the realms of dreams.

Inspired from Diana’s disciplinarian muse. Thanks dear friend.

A poet quote

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Balroop Singh.

 

 

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Dead End?

discover_what_is_pi_metcalf_rainbow-610x256

Attracted by the rosy path
Littered with little primroses
On both the sides…
I took this journey.

It seemed so fascinating
To tread the unknown trail
How could I forget the elation…
The warm words of assurance!

Words…empty words?
Leading me into unknown ventures
Little help, just soft silence…
Pretense of leading, guiding.

This seems to be the dead end
Alone in the wilderness…
Staring at the desolate way
Congregating courage to trudge.

I sit gagged, staring into space
Towards the wilderness
The horizon so close
The rainbow so alluring

Forgetting that rainbow is transitory
And the horizon – a delusion
I still move on!
Who can question my mettle?

Who can doubt my optimism?
Who can distrust my capabilities?
Of making new pathways
Dead end is nothing but an illusion.
Copyright:
BALROOP SINGH
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