By Vidya
If I must give an account
Of the life I have lived,
What can I say
Of the freedom with which I lived?
Mistakes and misunderstandings,
Give and take—all is clear;
Yet how many hearts
Have failed to forgive me, I fear.
How many layers can I shake off?
How openly can I bare my heart?
How can I cleanse the minds of others
When their prejudices keep us apart?
How can I make you understand
That what seems wrong to you today,
Had you been in my place back then,
You might have acted the very same way?
Circumstances compel us;
We do what life demands.
We cannot always change things
Or shape them as we planned.
“If you had done this, that would have happened;
If you hadn’t done that, this would be the case.”
With such pointless arguments,
You keep cursing me in disgrace.
How can I account for all my mistakes
When what I did, I thought was right?
The wealthy prospered through their ventures,
While I performed good deeds in my own light.
I gave land to the homeless and landless
So they could build a place to stay.
I only tried to turn a barren stretch
Into a green and living place one day.
Now that its value has risen,
You accuse me of greed;
You fail to see the circumstances
That shaped my actions in that deed.
What has been done cannot be undone;
The past cannot be made to depart.
So why burn yourself with needless anger?
It will bring you nothing but a troubled heart.
— Vidya
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