On Suchitra's poem

I was going through a poem of Suchitra Krishnamoorthy, - a bold one indeed. The words have been a natural outpour consecrated by a viagra of experinces that she was destined to live. But do the same feeling occur to us laymen? All the time? How often can we segragate ourselves from thinking that this is a world where no human being is perfect and accept the other just as he or she is in a moment of heat or frustration?
I’ve learnt that their lies were merely a reflectionOf what lay within, my innner confusion
In reminiscence can these words hold to us a lot of meaning. But a demonstration of these words through thought, word and deed is practically impossible without assimilating them in our being. Pain is the best teacher. It holds mirror to life's catastrophes to show us what we really are. The question is -- How much of it do we suffer ourslves to believe? How much of willingness do we show to accept these facts? We forget when we win, we refuse to accept when we lose, we sink when brain and brawn get entangled in the mire of our friends and relatives overrated exaggerations to our incompetencies.All because, we think, that we are the doers. When we get to read things which we do secretly believe but fear to open up for something or the other that life takes a different way to help us get back to ourselves. Fantasies, prophecies, unfulfilled dreams, efforts, expectations....... all are but
Its ashes to ashes, dust to dust
We talk about them, write about them, think about them but in an uncertain moment fail to practise them. However, the writing of some people(writers) do touch our hearts and then it means that the writer has truly lived them and have learnt from them. This leaves the writer and us in turn with the Choice.... Should we still shy from things which genuinely shapes us, or confront them with the attitude of trust? That, my folks will surely happen when we start loving ourselves wholly and completely despite all warnings, complaints, failures etc etc...