There was once a little girl .With nothing of the pleasantness and sweetness you associate with them. There was something quite revolting about her appearance, that too long nose and the thin cruel lips , so unsuitable in a girl of her age. Nobody liked her and there was good reason for that, I admit. For just when you thought you had begun to be comfortable with her, on the verge of a reasonable conversation, she reached out with her jagged nails , which never failed to hurt ,and viciously dug them into your skin.
It isn’t right to be too harsh on her, and I suppose she was alright from a distance, it was just the personal encounters which were never pleasant. They left you with a bitter taste in the mouth and a general soreness of being, a feeling of your heart having been wrung. Yet when poets wrote copiously about her unearthly beauty everyone agreed. Of course ,of course ,they said, righteously nodding in unison ,we never thought of her as anything else. She had a name this girl, but I shan’t tell you for then along with hating her you might begin to hate yourself and I cant risk that.
In spite of her wild ways she wasn’t immune to the general resentment surrounding her and she considered curbing her manners, making the changes everyone wanted her to. It had to start with trimming those nails and uprooting her teeth. Training that sneer out of her lips and taming her hair to a natural shape. Once it was done everybody was pleased, they smiled and patted her on the back, congratulated her on a job well done.
But they couldn’t help thinking you know, of how things were still not alright.Of how much more monstrous she was now, how hideous and repulsive .They could come to no decision about which way they preferred her. I don’t think they ever will.
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in this rush to think out of the box ,I forgot to see whats inside.
14 comments:
narrative ?
sounds a bit like me, only no poets are writing about my unnatural beauty. and my teeth haven't been uprooted, only broken and yanked about a bit.
but i like it. changing people... or trying to, is the most awful thing, and you end up with a mess with no integrity. and that's the truth.
gadha.
This isnt abt u.megalomaniac.
i think i shall give up writing altogether.
its no good and never clear enough.
my metaphors are utterly ineffective and always require explanation
the question was whether harsh truth or touched up half lies are more ugly.
the whole point of metaphors is having a number of possible interpretations... isnt it?
bottomline- dont 'give up writing altogether'. donnot. very few blogs actually manage to hold my attention. and yours is one. for whatever the compliment is worth!
qiute a bit really
Was wondering that you would reveal the name! Had this unlikely anticipation of it being you!! (Though that unearthly part of it was quite impossible..Chuckles!!)..
Is nice! I like it..
People never react well to change. Even if it is for the better.
who told you that? people often react well to change. good or bad, any reaction is better than indifference anyway.
i know i know. i was just trying to be philosophical. lol. but sometimes, indifference is good.
ore! topshe! nono, one person i do not want to argue on philosophic matters with!
indifference is good though. like when you flunk maths, and no one cares, not even you. yes, thats good.
how on earth this discussion turned into not caring about flunking maths, i fail to understand.
and joey, interpretations are good. i got one thing, and you wrote with another, and someone else might have a different one altogether. one day, someone will be discussing the layers of your poetry, maybe...
children this blog is supposed to be about me .
and not a forum for discussing your maths marks.
oof!what all i have to deal with...
most humble apologies... children forsooth!
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