The quick shower of childhood becomes long when you grow up.
because it is the only time when you are truly vulnerable.
Naked, lost, exposed in every way possible.
You knit tales in the shower,
talk to yourself in your head,
Sing, dance and celebrate your entity in that tiny space.
The shower turns into an Opera House sometimes,
And somedays it witnesses the blues
that you’ve hidden inside.
The four walls seize a lot of memories,
but we never bother to notice.
The water cleans your face,
when little drops of alkaline water tumble,
from the eyes to meet your breasts.
We never pay heed to it.
All other rooms have their special relevance,
But the shower space is the one,
that knows us on a deeper level.
Many secrets die there,
and some talents blossom into dreams un-lived.
The four walls conceal it all.
The cubicle comforts us during our downfall.
It drinks every silent tear that we hide while rushing to the doorway.
It has seen us in our lowest-lows,
Have gazed into our blood-shot eyes,
which swell and tear down like a perennial riverine.
Many promises are made there,
and some are seldom kept.
The small space turns into a dressing room sometimes,
and sometimes it becomes a fortress to hide.
The mirror tucked in the shower gazes at you in eternity,
Beseeching you to either smile, break or wipe the cast created on the mirror.
It seems to reflect your thoughts.
It seems to reflect your mind.
It’s your grooming place,
your shower space,
your favourite escapade.
To everybody feeling lost, neglected and abandoned. You are thrown into this vast world full of failures and opportunities, which requires labour. Get up, wash your face and put up a smile if needed. You are your only saviour, your best companion.
Make the most out of your life and stop thinking about other’s opinion of you. Your individuality makes you beautiful, so do what you like doing instead of pleasing everybody and losing yourself in the process. Much love, rise and shine!
Let thy spirit be high in love. Namaste