There was a time when I tried very hard,with little success, to be an angst ridden teenager. My sense of rebellion sprung out of nowhere; completely lacking impetus and purpose. At thirteen, I avoided school activities as a part of my 'Rebel Without a Cause' agenda. I would come back home,while a lot of other kids stayed back at school, and attempt to write 'dark' (to be swallowed with a pinch of salt) poetry (the kind that rhymed badly).
I read a lot of articles on psychology, philosophy and spirituality. I claimed at the the time to have understood all that I read (a tall claim that my twenty-something self will gladly contest). At fourteen, I joined the school choir; the 'darkness' subsided and the rhythm was less offensive. The angst mellowed and I felt 'empty' as I didn't have a worthy source of motivation.
Come sweet sixteen, and yours truly was a high school musical actress with a brand new obsession; death! Emily Dickenson personified a gentleman with great 'civility' in her poem 'Because I Could Not Stop for Death'. 'Death be not Proud' proclaimed John Donne in his sonnet to death. 'Do not go gentle..' said Dylan Thomas in a poem dedicated to his father. It is interesting to know that the stead of the Hindu God of Death, Yama, is a dog (my favourite mammal). I was quite taken by idea of two distinct possibilities; one of immortality and the other of temporary uncertainty(better known as mortality).I pondered and bickered, I personified and glorified, I wrote and scribbled till the day I had enough.
I never have and probably never will write a verse on death. (There is a catch; I am too fickle minded to make assertive statements.) I prefer life and I love being a diva!
P.S. : If my readers wish, I can post corrected and less embarrassing versions of some of the 'dark' poetry (if I am able to locate the manuscripts stashed away in shame).