respite redpaper

Respite | RedPaper.in

RedPaper.in

Respite | RedPaper.in

By Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in

 


Those rails, 
The small gate, 
A swing to fling, 
That’s all makes her place, 
Her owned cage. 


She has got used to it since she was a little birdie,
She has started loving it now, 
Spending each passing day, 
In a fixed routine.


Getting up, 
Fluttering her wings inside the cage, 
Eating those seeds and then, 
Jumping in those small puddles of water, 
Which often got filled in the curves of the base. 


She has always been a frolicking soul, 
Calmness, and composure, 
She doesn’t know how these are defined. 
However, she knows how to spell ferocity, 
Spontaneity. 

 

She is never a soul to be chained, 
To be bound to a single place. 
She has that urge, 
Of playing with the far spread clouds.
She has the whim, 
Of dangling the twigs 
Make her music through those rumbling sounds. 

 

What she wanted is to own is that place in the far off sky, 
Above those equally ferocious clouds. 
She has always known that she could tame them. 
Spending each day inside those limiting bars, 
Her curiosity trailed towards the higher slope. 

 

With days passing she used to think of the parallel world, 
Where the boundaries cease to exist,
Where your world has no pain but glee. 

 

One day she planned and left for a stroll, 
Peeking outside that rails of hers, 
She got out somehow and flew. 
She flew through the heights, 
Exploring paths and trails, 
Embellishing it all with her music, 
Screaming out, 
Screaming loud. 

 

She has never thought she could fly that high, 
She could cry too loud with her spirits, 
And get so near towards the end of the sky. 
She flew over the fields, 
She flew over the sea, 
She took rest near the creek,
Sometimes near the beach. 


She picked food from varied places
And savored the delicacies. 
What she loved is the vividness of the cultures around, 
The age old beliefs, 
The folklores, 
And those new sounds. 


She met few companions, 
Who shared with her their stories, 
She wrote that in her memory, 
And kept their images imprinted on her temples. 
She has always believed that people often meet in journey multiple times, 
As when they are introduced to you, It’s the preamble of the story that is yet to be derived. 


She knew she has to return to the cage again, 
As she could not leave her owners in grief, 
But she took it all, 
Lived it all, 
As a respite in brief.

Feature image: Apartment Therapy

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