Choices have to be paid for

There is a price I have to pay for the choice of my career is that I find it impossibly difficult (and expensive) to go abroad, for education or work which is one and the same thing for me. To go to any country, I’ll have to go and repeat a part of my curriculum which completely negates my work in the home country. Besides, india needs me more, right? Yes, the US has a better life (better being a relative term) and the UK has the best life. And Naples has better food, and Germany has better cars, roads and basically everything is greener on the other side of the border but why should I have to pay for this decision with my heart? Every person I’ve liked, be it my best friend, a fellow I met a few months ago who’s turned out to be one of my closest, my crush or my romantic interest… everyone is going abroad. This leaves me in a very peculiar fix. I can blame this on the stars and call it a typical Piscean trait. I’ve forever been torn between what’s practical and what I want. It has never been both, and I’m using the word never liberally here. Doctor vs creative profession. India vs abroad. Staying at home vs staying away.

I’m tired of losing people in the proximity terms because I choose to stay back. This decision is fairly certain because more than anything, it takes a lot financially and i refuse to pay another country revenue to make me a citizen. The only country I’d go to is Denmark, and I see no way of that happening.

I’m tired of having to choose someone to like based on where they’ll be five years from now. I’m tired of Skype calls and viber. I’m tired of the Internet encroaching on my friendships, and social media replacing heart to hearts, because “OH yes it popped up on my news feed and I liked it.”

I hate a dilemma.

When We First Met.

The universe twisted on its spine
When it felt what I felt
When I first met you.
Every breath left my body
With a dozen lighting strikes
Raining into the ocean.
And, as you quenched my soul
The earth swallowed
Every droplet of rain
Like morsels of rice
To a starving man.

The words you said
Rang in my ears like
Wooden chimes
Making love to the wind
On a stormy evening
Right before sunset.
And, the leaves bent over
Backwards;
Belly up with joy
Every time you
Whispered my name.

You swept me over
Like a glacier in sun
While I melted into
You.
And time itself moved,
Like a tadpole of water
On an infinite panel
Of translucent glass
Engulfing every drop
That it could ensconce
When you embraced me.
When we first met.

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Made by, Yours truly.