In any negative circumstances, we
suffer most when we are alone with ourselves. Guilt is no different. Among any time
in a day, the bedtime is worst for most of us. The bed is the place where our
fears, guilt, shame etc. wreak havoc. We spend sleepless nights dealing with
these emotions. The poem below beautifully captures our experience with guilt
during the bedtime.
The bed is the place where guilt grows.
Darkness falls,
Stories rise.
Body feels exhausted,
Mind seems activated
Events are revisited,
New narratives are created.
The bed is the place where mental fiction grows.
Such is the mind's role play,
All the parties to the case are present.
Hon'ble Judge is here,
Both, the prosecutor & the defense is here,
The annoying tick-tocking gavel is here,
Unexpectedly, the witness is also here.
The bed is the court where arguments take place,
Mind unleashes new allegations,
Defense cripples with its versions,
The self remains a meek witness.
With no support from outside
We suffer in the silence of night
The bed is the place where the dispute grows
We twist & turn,
From this side to the other side,
As the stories are heard.
In these moments of loneliness,
Despite all the comforts,
We remain deprived.
The bed is the place where the endurance grows
As the tick-tock quiets,
A fresh breeze surrounds.
The self or the witness whispers,
Guides us to adjourn the court.
With a note "to be resumed tomorrow"
We let it go for the day.
The bed is also the place to let it go
