Inside The Stream
Stream of Consciousness flooding at 150km/hr
Death
a silence from the noises inside your head.
A wish to go so numb, so calm,
that you resist it,
or resist the system
that convinces you the death wish is selfish.
What is selfish?
To live with hypocrisy
dressed in good costume?
Or to die like a slum person,
because both experience death differently
one lives with a dead heart
but still enjoys the community,
the other with a polished heart,
yet malicious deeds
make that heart ponder.
Get Siddhi’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
Both seek death,
but one has courage because of community.
The rich cannot.
As they say, log kya kahenge…
Being too direct has repercussions,
but why is bluntness seen as harsh?
If the world were blunt at its finest,
we would have perished.
Why even live
if living brings so much suffering?
One retreats, stops imagination
even imagination feels futile.
Yet it is imagination
that gives hope to death,
even if it seems unreachable.
They say death is certain.
When sought, why is it withheld?
Is this the Lord of Death’s cruelty,
insufferable until hope gives up?
And what of those who exist but do not live,
zombie-like, apocalyptic,
yet beautified as art?
