I lay there and stare at the door.
Staying there above the glistening floor.
There is a knob that shines and glitters,
Keeping away the slaying and hanging jitters.
When one door closes, another opens,
They say to all, far or near and dear ones.
But I sit and wonder,
While the hope seems to blur.
On one side is the safe and sound area,
Like the cozy cafe or artistic galleria;
While the other has regions unknown,
Ideas long gone and thrown.
It is a great idea to bifurcate and divide,
That is how enmity shall subside.
And a drop falls on the window.
After a lightning thunder that transforms into a shadow.
Doors are so wonderful and pristine,
Like a world so pure and clean.
I hear a cry.
A cry that touches the untouched corners of heart.
A cry that polishes the subdued layers of art.
A cry that was once spread like an open fire.
A cry that now is limited to restricted and unwanted flames of desire.
There is a division that separates.
There is an alteration that berates.
Minds do not converse.
Hearts do not talk in free verse.
Wood and tin become the barrier that draws.
Like a monster’s sharp and dangerous claws.
It is not just inside the house.
Spreads across the world- from inns to ploughs.
Sometimes, it is in the form of a massive steel gate,
Sometimes, it is in the form of a different silver plate.
It walks in the minds of people,
It talks complexity in the matters that are simple.
And the door hides-
Every smile that glides,
Every tear that abides.
Every face that snides,
Every thought that suicides.
It hides and finally dies.
There was a time when the door would always be open.
There was a time when the door would always be shunned.
And now, it has become a point of differentiation.
A point of discrimination and division.
The ones behind the door shall ensure that the knob shines,
While the ones in front of it shall ensure that the field is full of pines.
And then they try to interchange,
They try to expand their range.
Yet they forget to acknowledge the other.
And they ignore the plight of the other.
Because the door never saw the knob on the outer side,
Because the key would always open and abide.
When they change and alter,
Everyone starts to falter.
It is a door that stays there.
It is the idea that glues there.
The wood decays.
The knob delays.
The screws go loose,
People forget to choose.
It breaks down.
It meets an unwanted frown.
The thoughts stick by,
The flights become sly.
And slowly, the door becomes a wall.
The reason for humanity's fall.
No one talks.
No one walks.
All become glued to a screen,
With changing colors from pink to green.
Of course it is engaging.
Of course it is encouraging.
It is made for release of dopamine,
Made to remind you that the world is thine.
But oh my dear friend,
It is the socializing end.
The door was always there.
The window was always to share.
Thoughts were never locked.
Ideas were never blocked.
Laughter flew around like a feather.
Sadness tanned like leather.
Disgust spewed.
Joy glued.
A joke was cracked.
A slap was whapped.
The key to the door was humanity.
The eye to the heart was sincerity.
Keys are now rusted.
Eyes are now dusted.
Money blurs the difference between greed and humanity.
Vanity spurs the words of fame into sincerity.
Hark now.
All is not lost.
Faith is not a ghost.
Peep within to find your God.
Do not wait for your idol to nod.
Rely on the voice of your conscience.
Trust your own omniscience.
Let that door be open now.
Go hug that person and feel the wow.
It is but a tale to share your feelings.
It is but a joy to know your healings.
Do not shed the tear alone,
Because every corner is a place to atone.
And let yourself flow,
Let the divine rhythm in you glow.
Doors are there to enter,
To touch every heart’s center.
Do not let the emotions bury the love,
Celebrate the person that fits like a glove.
Shed the screen that shatters,
Connection is what matters.
And there, you shall see the glow.
And there, the humans shall grow!
