This space that I now have to myself, I'm loving it
even as I miss being in yours that now forbids me
because there are others and more to come.
My space was once yours and mostly yours;
to have believed yours would also be mine
was my own naivety, not seeing far enough.
That times change, modern replaces tradition;
youth build their own culture, adult on their own;
and generations apart, we live in different worlds.
We are now in separate spaces, one roof above.
One kitchen, different eating spaces - often alone -
and a television in each occupied space closed.
The outside space is neither yours nor mine,
yet to meet you there a near impossible thing -
the space conquered by your generation.
My space is lonely even as I love being in it
'cause it's cold - out of love and tender care.
So I rejoice in the new outside space of friends.
A new family is born in this space of friends;
your space and my space, no more our space.
You and I - our relationship now a matter of deal!
I get a feeling of loss and sadness from this poem ma'am.
ReplyDeleteAh, it hurts!
Thanks for reading my post, Rekha. It is a story of a trend in a modernizing society. Sad...and I belong to a generation that's beginning to feel that kinda loneliness...we may not talk about it, though.
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