Wonder why...

Ever wondered why we sometimes feel lonely even though we are not alone? Why a crowd doesn’t provide the same merry and cheer as a few special ones do? Why things that we take for granted with some, need to be spelled out to the rest? Why some people can give us unconditional care, while it’s a marriage of profit with the others? Why is it that a few people can make you discover how beautiful we are, while others cant? And why we don’t recognize such people till they are gone? Is it the short while that they touch your life that makes them special? If they had stayed on, probably we wouldn’t treasure them as we do now. Or is it a cruel trick that destiny plays, to keep us longing for the fulfillment that was lost? Why does even the most gregarious of us feels as desolate as the congenital recluse? The rhyme/poem below is an attempt to picture my thoughts on the good and the great of buddies.

The Good and the Great.


I have many good friends
But a mere handful of great friends
Words don’t bring out the difference
Between the two, in any sense.
My good friends are always around
To make my life smooth and sound.
My great friends stay only for a phase
Special sojourns in a maddening race.
Even if my great friends revisit
My life to make up for the deficit
More likely would they become
Just good friends, in the days that would come
Seperated by Distance, space and Time
Images from the past, resonant chimes.
This nostalgia , Is it a comatose stimulus?
Or a distant lullaby beyond the milling chaos?.
Days are many, that I spend with my good friends
Wishing all along, for the great ones to pop up near the bends
Peek-a-boo, they would say, and I shall wake up
Breaking my somnambulism, Hey, Times up!
But that’s not to be, dreams shall remain dreams.
And my longing grows monstrously, pushing the seams.
“Life’s like that. Isnt it?” They say.
“Yeah”, I agree .Nothing is here to stay.
Oh Blossoming buds, I retreat from you,
Fearing the moment I shall be filled with rue.
Darkness beckons, “Come into my folds,
I shall protect you from the light and the golds”
I respond, in the affirmative, using adages to skip worry
Aloud I say to myself, “Better safe than sorry!”
To escape the thorn, I give up the rose
The body over shadowed by the Ghost.
“That’s not right, my little chum”,
Said a voice as sweet as a sugary plum
One of the Greats, she is, my friend
"Riches of the rainbow are always in the end.
Good ones can become great
You have it in you, to change your fate".
Smiling and hopeful, I look into the sunny rays
Eager for the next oasis to come my way


- The Lunatic Bard



This poem is dedicated to one such great friend. I had written it in a moment of despair, acutely feeling the void created by her absence. I had sent it for her perusal. Her response made me add the last few lines which end it in an optimistic note. Now I really know what makes great friends great.