While she was still trying to get over the shock of the new revelation, when Tony’s best friend called for her. The doctor had news for them.
Tabade had died, Tinu had survived. But she may never be able to use her legs again, the doctor said.
Tinu explained how she had felt uncomfortable with the lies Sam had fed Tabade. And how she had had feelings for him for a while.
She ensured he read the article and slowly warmed her way to his heart.
“How? Wow! So you knew the reason all the while I was complaining to you about how Tee had changed. Interesting world!!!” said Sam.
“On the evening of the accident, I had gone to his house. Told him I was around the neighbourhood. Somehow we got talking about the blog and somehow he broke down. We made out and made love. And then he was going to drop me off when we started arguing about whether he should tell you about what happened. Somehow he lost concentration and the next thing I knew we had run into a bus!” said Tinu.
At the funeral, Samantha was called to give her eulogy for Tabade.
Everything ends. Nothing truly ends.
What has a beginning has an end.
Which is the beginning, the means to another end.
The end of a thing. The beginning of another.
The end of a caterpillar. The beginning of the butterfly.
The death of a mortal. The life of an immortal.
The death of a seed. The birth of a fruit.
The end of a thought. The beginning of the deed.
The end of a word. The beginning of its work.
The end of time. The beginning of eternity.
The past behind. The future ahead. The past to meet again.
You can never truly run away from where you’ve been
The past carries all we are and the seed of what we become
All we run away from, we run into.
The children of the past
Past memories, mistakes, regrets
Regrets are but a memory of
Of things undone we wish done
Of things done we wish undone
I find it intriguing how intensely we fight who we are
How we fight the changes slapped across our faces
Through the course of one lifetime
How we hate the pain, the sorrow, the longing
The hope, the disappointment, the loss
The failure, the loneliness, the ache
Which leaves scars upon our silken, our once succulent skin
And then deforms the beauty made by
God’s own hands with nature’s own sands
I’ve heard of the love for the light
It’s weird how we all carry in us a measure of darkness
I’ve learned wherever light goes, darkness is having a burger and waiting for it
And that the hands that made the light created the darkness
And that no one is good without a good measure of bad
I once met yang, he proudly carried yin upon his weary shoulders
I’ve seen the world hate those who live in the darkness
The ones on the edge of the night
The sorrowful, the weary, the weak, the foolish, the wounded, the broken
The sick, the poor, the paranoid, the fallen
The fence lovers, the ugly, the loveless, the scared, the scarred
And when the hate fills the bucket called the world
It pours out like the first time a boy loves a girl
…It’s pure, it’s deep, it’s passionate, and the majority carry the vote
The wrong cast these rejects out into the land where…
…Well, no man’s land, no water just sand
Just enough sand to return back to nature
I love that place, the place where no one goes
The places no one loves
The people no one wants
I once met a girl named Scarlet
She was let into the world by her mom
Her mom who dies letting her into the world
Growing up, she lost her dad
Standing up, she had a pocketful of lost loves
Growing tall, she mastered the beauty of a hard tarred floor
We rise, we fall; she falls, she falls
Giving up, she sleeps, she sleeps upon the hard, tarred floor
And forsakes the dream of knowing the blue sky face to face someday
One step forward, two steps back
One foot in, two feet out
One good deed goes punished with ten bad deeds
Her eyes once a map of innocence
Now carries the incense of all that’s wrong
I’ve been here, the place where
A door closes…and no window opens
A place where you get bludgeoned, and your brain resets
And forgets all the pain that life deals you
And heals you, just so you could breathe for one more day
‘I awake with fear shooting down my spine
Fear of the certainty of an uncertain future
What have I become, Jay? ‘
Ever seen a tree that’s slapped around by the raging wind
Beaten by the weeping rain, burned by the hurting sun
Cut down by the fallen man supposed to tend it
Ever seen a human tossed around by life
This happens, recover, that happens, recover
It happened…I’m tired, it happened again…I’m done.
Given all you ever wanted just to have it taken away
The wind blows wild and you don’t know where
Your body will be dumped, where the storm will pick you up
And sink you to, or when god’s voice will whisper…’enough’
But in the middle of the desert where the outcast breathes
Remember the middle of the fire where gold and his brother, diamond are born
And strive to breathe long enough to see you
Thrive like only an outcast can.
It was a poem by one @scarville.