Album - 2
The meaning of being siblings and parents,
are not like the ones in that picture,
That house is not the same now,
Years ago we siblings left that house and made our own paths,
Now there is a strange sadness on father's face,
I remember seeing mother's smiling face in the picture,
It has been years,
I have not seen mother laughing so carefree again
The younger brother is worried about his future,
He is mischievous in the same way,
as in that picture,
but it seems as if his mischievousness has become artificial now,
as if that mischievousness has not come from within him,
He stands there covering his mischievousness,
and is unable to hide it,
When he does this, he seems very wise to me,
It seems as if he has suddenly grown up and I am younger than him,
But in that picture,
That old house still exists,
Just as alive,
The lie of today,
The truth of memories that keeps poking again and again,
There is a strange restlessness, in that picture
That picture is very ruthless,
It is more tyrant than memories,
It does not show any mercy at all,
I have to turn my eyes away from them,
To protect myself from them,
Or else they come inside,
To play with restlessness and sadness. In one picture,
we brothers and sisters are bathing in the river,
making noise and commotion,
It does not seem that this is the same sister,
whose phone calls come occasionally,
She is extremely busy in her house,
She has nothing left to talk about except her house,
When we meet after years,
It seems,
As if we were strangers,
As if it is destiny to meet like this,
Even after meeting we are unable to come out,
From our own worlds,
Then ending up in our own worlds,
This picture becomes a garbage,
Just like garbage, no sound comes out of it,
The call of that picture becomes a formless call,
The existence of that picture,
Is like denying some truth.
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 😊 🙏. @vikbuddy
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