Someone Else's sunlight

 Someone else's sunlight- a poem about an unfulfilled longing to contain beauty and the fact that you can't. 

I was listening to Monali Thakur singing 'sawar lu' in an interview. I saw this yt short specifically- https://www.youtube.com/shorts/d4r5cf7irwQ. A swarm of emotions surged through my chest. I felt as if it was melting my heart away. All of it- not just the song- her sweet voice sounded like a lullaby promising safety from danger- almost as a mother to a child singing a song about sunshine and rainbows even when everything around is anything but. Her expressions reeked of innocence and her large eyes wandered all about as if signaling the effortlessness and the innocence in all of that ephemeral beauty. as if was gold for us- is just a regular thing for her divine self to keep. The longing I felt from this- reminded me of some metaphorical instances such as a child trying to capture sunlight in a jar but just can not, or a child who catches the gaze of a beautiful flower but if he plucked it to keep, it may wither and die. Almost like you can never keep beauty for yourself but just the longing to do so. This suggests- that beauty is for no one's to keep just as sunlight is no one's to keep. 

But another experience of my life, suggests a twist to this tone. The first love of my life- from my 8th standard building up to a grave mental disaster for me in 10th standard finally ended up with someone else without even knowing maybe what I felt. So, it then felt more from 'no one's sunlight' to 'someone else's sunlight'. This poem I present is dedicated to her- 

Someone Else's Sunlight

Lay not your eyes upon her face,

nor to her voice incline your ear,

for beauty caught is beauty slain,

and what remains is yours to bear.

At first it feels your heart might melt,

to hear the melody she pours—

a nimbus woven out of sound,

a cloud on which your longing soars.

But a glance will never be enough;

you’ll hunger for a little more—

to keep this drop of sunlight close,

a warmth that’s yours to adore.

It stirs a thought—have I felt this before?

Ah yes, I remember, long ago—

one summer when the sun burned gold,

and I, a child, would never let it go.

I ran inside and found a jar,

to trap the day before it fled.

I lifted the lid for the light to pour—

those golden drops the heavens bled.

I sealed it tight, but when—I know not—

the gold slipped out, as all light must.

My treasure box was left in dusk,

its promise scattered into dust.

Another time, I saw a petal—

soft as a child’s unspoken prayer,

bright as divinity’s quiet smile,

too brief for mortal hands to wear.

I had to leave the bloom behind—

could I not hold it in my mind?

For if I plucked it, it would fade;

the price of beauty is decay.

For beauty is god, and god is sly—

He hides in things that will not stay.

You clasp your hands to hold the charm,

and it escapes—its light astray.

And then you see, too late, too bright,

you were gazing at borrowed light—

what burned your soul that sacred night

was never yours—

but someone else’s sunlight. 

-Parth                                           

What irks me most is that I couldn't express much in this poem, as I am not much of a poet. The razor sharp pain still escapes whatever words could capture in this stanzas. I feels almost as it the Mother Nature  herself was unfair. If the sunlight couldn't be mine, why someone else's? But as bad as it may seem- it's just borrowed light after all.