Careless

    I love the birds that carelessly flock together through the sky

    With nothing to hide

    No facades or pretentious smiles that hide pain

    Do they feel pain? Or is it just that they're too good at hiding it?

    Maybe far better than human beings?

    Without a smack of hurt in the beaks that never twitch but stay sturdy always.

    I love the cat that does not care about the world

    And sleeps its day off in the tattered verandas of indifference

    Not having to care about anything

    Without too many thoughts to shake its head off

    With the ability to focus on a single thing, say, a prey

    And sleep without regrets for the rest of the day

    Or is it that they're too good at hiding the rush of thoughts that flood their mind? 

    Maybe far better than human beings?

    I love slices of life that bring tears on to a stubborn face

    That touch the soul and pass on

    That help me escape the funny but harsh riddles of the mess I am

    Or is it that they're too disguised in their narratives to ever be true?

    Maybe far better than real lives?

    Is it why they're perhaps "larger than life" even when they're fit into pages or screens?

    I don't have answers.

    With a surprise I realise,

    That I used the word 'love' instead of 'like'

    Love is too strong a word, life taught me that

    Maybe this poem needs to be edited

    Maybe certain words need to be replaced

    Or is it just that I was not being too aware?

    Is it just that

    I perhaps try my best to understand things I actually don't?

    Or perhaps I 'love' things that I don't understand?

    Because

    To understand is to love

    Or perhaps to love is to understand.

    Sorry, love is too strong a word.

    I'm too good at making mistakes.

    - Vinaya Mary

      05.03.24