The walking contradictions

​They told me ,

It's going to be the age of roses,

It's going to be the age of mysterious secrets,

The age of great revelations,

The age of awakening,

The age of self actualization.



BUT

What it turns out to be ,

A bee hive of dichotomy.

I endorse Erik Erikson,

Who said its going to be tough battle of intimacy v/s isolation.



Because there exist my category of people,

Who identify them as, publicly extrovert and privately introvert.

Bipolar with pendulum moves of attachment and detachment.

Who, long for eternal love in a second and turns fickle minded for nothing but lust.

Who,want a clean table to begin the day, but turning the house upside down for a safety pin.

Who, want someone to follow and kiss them passionately in public, but feel disgust on the very handshake.

Who, wish to sleep in the lap of their mother, but have built a series of forts of defence mechanisms.

Who, hate their brother for having taken for granted attitude, but wakes up and run to check on him during midnight, just because you saw a dream in which a mosquito bite him.

Who, have an unending repository of virtues and ethics, but smoking a cigarette can ask for compromising all of it.

Who, hate the loose talks and bitching sessions with your close friends,but always initiate such a session because you just want the feeling of being them around.

Who, wants to wake up inside Portuguese heritage home with Iberian walls, but your tiny room reminds your net worth.

Who, wants to conduct expeditions like another Alexander of Macedonia, but petrol prices makes you a Shylock.

Who, wants to sit and read "Old man and sea" in a serene orchard,

But the backyard of home is filled with plastic bags waiting for sanitation workers.

Who, wants to change the world,

But feel so exhausted to change own bedsheet.

Who, gets high by reading environmentalism , but have heaps of cloths teeming with consumer fetishism.

Who, fall for melting voice of Jagjit singh, but shares Metallic music to peer groups.

Who, cares for most of them around,

But so shy to pat or give a hug to a weeping soul.

Who, wants to eat white rice and all fat rich homely meals, but get sighs by watching the bellies or thigh of any footballer.

So , guilt , shame, confusion, where most of it , unlike the prom stories and grand theories.

In fact sometimes I straightly see a woman, just after seeing a child, and really , I don't know where exactly was the adulthood ,

May be it was another name for the mental fog I was stuck inside.