A Poem on Suicide

Some time back a girl I knew committed suicide (I am not telling you the reason why). The news came as an absolute shock to me as I never thought that she will take such a drastic step. I got very disturbed when I was told that she died due to overdose of sleeping pills. Various thoughts started crossing my mind. I started remembering some old moments I had with her. Although I didn’t know her well enough, I can say that she was a very kind lady. So I had that saddening feeling somewhere deep inside me. For the next few days, I used to think of her and her family. I was wondering how sad her family would be. Yeah! I could only wonder how sad they would be. Only her family would know how painful it is to lose someone so dear.

One morning while I was using my laptop, all of a sudden I started thinking of her again and about her family too. I was visualizing stuffs and my sentiments rose so high that I knew it was time to pen it down (or type it down as I was using my computer). I opened up Word and started typing…. Following is what I typed while thinking of the girl and her family. The poem is not based upon her but is actually based upon “repentance after suicide”. I’m not saying much as I want you all to figure it out yourself.

Nothing could really bring me a pleasure

I traveled great oceans, I traveled great lands,

I hiked tall mountains, and sailed great seas,

But nothing could really bring me a pleasure -

Animals, birds, or lush green trees.

I wandered through the dense forests so wild,

I roamed through the cities' streets;

But nothing could really bring me a pleasure -

People, houses, or drummers' beats.

I entered my home, to meet my mother,

My father, and sleep in my suite,

But nothing could really bring me a pleasure -

My crying parents, or my silky bed sheet.

I could see them, but they see me not,

I could hear them, but they hear me not;

Nothing could really bring me a pleasure -

My helplessness, or my nostalgic thought.

I loathe that day when I jumped off the cliff,

And plunged deep into the sea beneath,

Nothing could really bring me a pleasure -

My death, my casket or the beautiful wreath.

More to follow on this topic.