Nascent

I can’t wait to see your eyes,
and show them things they’ll never forget.
You’ll see things that you love,
and those that you’ll regret.

I can’t wait to hold your hands,
they’ll be so soft and tender.
A warm touch of innocence,
before which all would surrender.

I wish to see your first steps,
following you from the time you crawl.
I’ll always be by your side,
to catch you when you fall.

I wonder what your first words will be,
I wonder how you’ll sound.
Patiently I’ll listen to your voice,
I’ll always be around.

I can’t wait to hear your dreams,
and witness all your choices.
Would you fight your demons,
or succumb to your vices?

I want to hear your heart beat,
I wish to hold you near.
But there was no pounding,
and I was struck with fear.

I wished to do so much,
and so much I wished to say.
But my fate is cursed by demons,
for bitter circumstances took you away.

Kuchen Ohne Eier, Bitte!

People often crowded around me on my birthday with smiles on their face as they proceeded to shake my hand, hug me and wish me a “happy birthday!” As years passed by, I wondered, what exactly was so “happy” about birthdays? What was its significance? Why was one day in particular treated as something so special? I tried to understand it but never could. It was just like any other day. Why then was this day so overrated? Why was it so hyped? I just didn’t get it.

Some viewed this day as a step towards their grave while there were others who stood with megaphones and party-poppers, declaring just how happy they were to celebrate the day they were born on. Both the perceptions were so flawed and loathsome at the same time. For starters, those who viewed it as ‘a step towards their grave’ failed to realize that death is an uncertain entity that is unbiased and unprejudiced. It can sweep you off your feet anytime, anywhere. Your mortality doesn’t depend on your age but rather on your circumstances and your choices. Those who celebrated their birth once a year were delusional, short-sighted fools.

“Being born” could happen at any given time, even years after being flushed out of the womb. Your perceptions change every day, your morals and your values vacillate precariously as well. There is no guarantee that you will remain the same person you are today for years to come. People change with every experience or their circumstances force them to change. Change is inevitable. You are a new person every day. Holding onto one day in particular to celebrate your “birth” is meaningless if you fully understand the aforementioned facts.

Be grateful for every living, breathing moment of your life and stop counting your age. It does not matter. Time is relative. Putting a number on your age will only limit your own growth and zest for life. You are as old as you choose to be. I realized this a long time ago. I was dead the moment I was thrown out of my mother’s womb. It was only when I found darkness, or rather when darkness found me within the vast void of my conscience, that I was truly born… the only moment when I truly felt alive. I wandered in all that darkness for years, stumbling, falling and crawling till I found my core. When I found my core, that’s when I was reborn. That’s when I realized the true value of my being.