Black and white | RedPaper.in
By Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
Don’t you feel ethereal comfort when you are there?
There on the edges,
Away from the deciding lines,
Either this way or the other,
You never know but,
You are subconsciously satisfied,
When you stand,
On the edges of the bar,
Balancing over life.
Achievements, praises, fame
Happiness, ecstasy, winning the game
These lay on one end of the balance,
Another end weighs
Rejections, criticisms, obscurity,
Despair, dullness, losing the name.
In one side you have the world,
Which calls your name in pride,
On the other, we have the shoulders,
To rest our heads on and cry.
Each of these sides,
Makes you plunge deep sea in emotions,
Whether it be of love, elation,
Or of failure, dissatisfaction.
But you know,
What is the worst phase?
It is standing on the merging line,
When you didn’t get to taste,
Either success’ or the failure’ stein.
It’s the deep silence in the middle of the line,
Monotony and routine,
Which eats you from within,
Without consciously making you whine.
You don’t get the affection,
That you crave for so long,
As you are neither in pain
Nor get a reason for throng.
So what’s boring?
It is the life that lies in between,
But then you have to travel through the middle,
To live in extremes.
One has to move through the shades of gray,
Which is monotonous,
But it lands you up,
In a place having either absolute black or white play.