Love is just another fetter...

And when it was just about to take a flight,
another shadow hung above it,
resisting its motion...
its foray into a free dive
beyond restrictions and inhibitions into a world of its own.
Wings flutter desperately to expand and
to open up...
claws maneuver their freedom through the thread
eyes wander restlessly in search of help
the neck might as well break with efforts of desperate movement.
Thus, clipped and bound,
a humble soul mourns its longing for love,
for love is just another fetter...
going against the will of aimless wandering
one more shadow that hangs above head,
one more shadow sucking life's nectar...

My Life is my life and nobody else's...

and there in me there are a plethora of emotions and thoughts. It is one of those moments when the dichotomy between mind and heart is blurred. Yes, my mind and heart are not going in different directions, its just that I am not sure where do my thoughts stop and the feelings begin, thinking and feeling...feeling and thinking...merge into each other and make the task of verbalizing how you feel and what you think even more difficult. Is it a necessary step in the process of growing up? Is it some kind of essential conflict that everyone goes through? From whose perspective do you define yourself? whose perspective justifies your presence as worthy of living? friends, colleagues, family, caretakers, and a number of invisible forces, who would have been totally absent when you were growing up, battling it all alone, but now that you are in the process of carving an identity for yourself, they all need a share of 'your' life, suddenly they become stakeholders in your decisions..how? Nobody knows...how is it that the world expects you to act according to your discretion and yet when you do, there is always somebody who can think better for you, who can take your decisions more intelligently for you. Caught in the whirlwind of personal expectations, desires and aspirations, as soon as the self takes a flight into the world of dreams, that we realize the weight of the stone which pulls us down to earth and keeps us from soaring high. I wonder whether this vicious circle of being accepted conditionally would ever end? When would the time come, when my life would be my life, When would I feel the pure joy of owing my life to only myself? the sensation of living it the way I envisage? Would this existential quest end ever? Will I ever get the opportunity to make my own choices and to be free to bear the consequences on my own? Will I? Thinking and feeling...feeling and thinking...