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| Wandering alone |
Blood relations matter when the relatives respect the blood and protect the same from dripping off the nerves. An illusion that he or she is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but I know that I am humane. No point creating truth less ideals because, each time I come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded, while the one left and accused is the one ALONE.
Yes, my book carries this page too. She’d beg, borrow, steal, trick, and bribe LOVE, but eventually it’s all begged, borrowed, stolen, tricked, bribed, that stays away like sea waves. They’d touch you, they may also carry you but eventually they’ll throw you back to the shore. It was a massacre that shook their lives up for years and years, loosing her parents in a fraction of seconds. She howled to the sky, she tore the books that posed poems on happy lives; she unsubscribed the channels that would spoof on a family guy, she hated the sound of music, but eventually fell back. Why? EMPTINESS! She tried to make a beautiful life, took an idea from a Hindi-atypical family drama and tried weaving a row of smiles. But like I said, she could beg, borrow, steal, trick, bribe LOVE, but can’t have it forever. That’s why, the ones who give birth are called PARENTS, and the remaining formers and forwards are called Blood Relatives.
