Little did I know

Little did I know,
How hard it'd be,
Following one's dreams,
Amidst the struggle to satisfy,
This so called society.

Little did I know,
That the so called norms,
Would be binding shackles,
Chafing away,
Once cherished ideals.

Little did I know,
That convictions too,
Would falter with time,
And prudence bordering on being risk-free,
Would be taken as coming-of-age.

How I dearly wish,
For all this acquired worldly wisdom,
To be replaced by childish impulsiveness,
And the unwavering conviction,
To follow my dreams,
Wherever they may lead...

My muse

**
This poem arises from having watched DDLJ again (after a looong time I might add) -- specifically this poem from Simran's diary:

Aisa Pehli baar hua hai in satra athra saalon main
Andekha Anjana koi aane laga khayalon main
Aankhon ki khidki par ek saya sa lehrata hai
Dil ke darwaje par koi dastak de ke jaata hai
Ghehri bhuri aankhein mujhse mera naam poochti hai
Haathon ki lakiron main kiska chehra ban jaata hai
Uski saasein resham jaisi mere galo ko chu jaati hai
Uske haathon ki khusbu ab tak mere balo main hain...
Haan Aisa Pehli baar hua hai in satra athra saalon main
Andekha Anjana koi aane laga khayalon main
**

Her silky locks unfettered,
Swaying in the gentle breeze.
Her childlike smile, intoxicating laughter,
Filling people around her with joy.
Her honey-sweet voice,
Infusing the air with melody pristine.
Tender and loving her gaze.
Right before me she stands.
My enchantress, mon amour...

I reach out towards her, arms outstretched.
To hold her in a loving embrace,
To run my hands down her tender face.
But ere I can touch her the slightest,
Does she fade away into nothingness;
So does my dream ripple away,
So does my muse disappear,
A mere figment of my imagination;
Yet, the tormentor of my dreams.