Randomness Inside My Head

Of all men in the world with

Their charming personalities

And promises to be good to me,

Nothing made my heart flutter

As nervously as you did when

You sat across me in that

Restaurant. We got off on wrong

Foot, but I soon learned how

Kind and how reliable you were,

How you never hesitated to

Offer me your strong arm, holding

Me up whenever the days got

So rough and I didn’t think I could

Carry on much further.

“Did or do we program you

Into doing, saying, making

Anything, going anywhere,

You’re not completely aware

Or don’t have control of?”

“Did or do we live in your

Brain to think what you

Refuse to imagine, in your

Heart to feel what you loath,

In your life dictating every

Step and decision you make?”

“Your parents are not robot

And neither are you."

Maybe you’ll wish for

Something else, things which

Are out of your reach, things

Which belong to someone else,

But I pray, my child, that your

Heart will always be grateful

For God’s grace to us is always

Sufficient. Maybe you’ll abandon

Us as you mingle with people

Who appear better than your

Own flesh and bones, but I pray,

My child, that you’ll always come

Home to us, to where you always

Belong despite of everything.

A quick interview by Oshini, Honorary Reporter from Srilanka. She's writing an article about what HR's from different countries experience while joining the program. It's an honour to be invited, Oshini! Thank you! 💜

What

You and they might agree upon

Is anger and rage leave nothing

But a bad taste in your mouth,

The slow burning regret that

Forces you to face your demon

And think of another way to

Handle them, should they

Occur again somehow, someday.

But time cannot be turned

Back and what is done is done.

What remains after that anger,

Which explodes into rage,

The hurt in other people’s feelings,

The vows that they will hate

You or the promise that

You will never forgive

Them, whichever arises first,

Cannot be undone.

From him I learn, that we can

Never forsake family. No matter

How hard we try to neglect, to

Run away, to abandon people

Whose roots are identical with

Ours, whose lives are a part of

Ours, whose love and dedication

Are directed only for, at, and to

Us, we can never succeed in

Doing that; we can never escape.

Those who mean well will say,

“You did your best. Despite all your

Other roles and responsibilities,

You’ve managed to come this far.”

I don’t blame the floor when I

Know it is I who cannot dance.

I don’t look at my other roles and

Responsibilities to give myself

A valid and acceptable excuse for

Not achieving and being the best.

A failure is a failure, no matter

How sugarcoated it is with a

Hope for better chances and

Brighter tomorrows.

Off they go

To the fridge and are kept there

Until I heat them up the next day, or

Until someone remembers that

They are there, stuck somewhere

Deep in the cool, white box.

Unwanted, but existing.

Undesirable, but functional.

Neglected, but has to be dealt with

Somehow.

Help me. Bring my vision back.

Lay the purpose one more time.

Help me return to my track, run

Through and finish my race.

Help me. I’m lost.

As I look up to the heaven,

Observing how the clouds were

Blown by the wind, the bright and

Blazing sunlight burns my skin

And blocks my view, but by then

I feel alive and well and relieved.