Tuesday, 3 March 2020

Hot Mess

The state of being single beckons; 
Giving you doses of daily reminders:
You’re after all a recluse; basking in the glory of solitude:
No invasion into the deeper recesses of your mental space and freedom, no one to consult or none to dictate terms.
And then there are the symbols of wedlock that entice you - 
Of flowers, jewellery, sarees, partnership, gatherings and all the wedding paraphernalia that’s associated. 
Your playlist is shared, edited, upgraded, with every prospect whom you meet;
The same tracks assume different meanings with each passing memory;
Do you really have a choice of owning the playlist, all by yourself,
Keeping the meanings they once lent with the same emotion?
Well that’s the thing about love: it’s a mixtape. 
The songs keep churning in the mixtape 
The tunes remain the same; the association changes; with love.
Does it even last until the next Valentine’s?
Mixtape; goes on...with every song.
For music never lets you down: you have a choice of switching over to variants.
That’s the thing about being a music lover 
There’s a plethora of offerings it has to provide. 
Back to hot mess: you can still pick your choice : do you want to share your playlist with another?
While still dreaming of wedlock, flowers, so on and so forth...

No comments:

Post a Comment