The past is dead,
no replays allowed.
Future is a rumour,
no rehearsal required.
Live like every breath is borrowed,
Live life like it is on fire, and
Let the present consume you
all the way through.
The Life of a Showgirl might be a LOT of things, but the life of a swiftie is never dull.
As a
Bengali, I was already in a festive mood with Durga Puja shenanigans right
before the album release. But I would not deny the fact that I was more excited
for the album than I was for Durga Puja this year.
First of
all, when the tracks were declared and the fifth track of the album stared at
me, I could almost hear it say, “It’s me. Hi! I’m the problem, it’s me.”
Taylor
Swift admitted to placing her most “vulnerable, personal, honest,
emotional” song as Track 5 on
her albums in 2019 when the fans spotted that pattern. Of course, I was eagerly
waiting to be wrecked by a song. Again.
In India,
the album was released at 9:30 in the morning and I only got out of bed after
listening to all the songs. With TLOAS being the shortest TS album till date,
it took me just an hour to go through them all (yes, I might’ve listened to a
few of them multiple times). I loved some songs immediately and others might’ve
taken some time to gel with. After that 31-songs double album which was heavier
than expected, I was relieved that The Life of a Showgirl is full of upbeat and
lighter songs (except maybe two).
A torn jacket belongs to someone else
Smells like old spice and sweat
Giving me all the warmth needed to survive this lonely, cold night
While I dream of the dream.
An overused t-shirt,
So big, it could fit both of us…scent of tears and ocean
Hugged me in those nights
You were too busy to look at the starts
A second-hand copy of my favorite book
With blemish yellow pages and taste of old monk
Provided me with the comfort, I was looking in you
While I sleep, in the lap of clouds
It’s too much,
Thing after a thing
Drowning in this black hot coffee, not enough
Being in that super-hero suit is not good anymore
Golden liquid doesn’t burn me as it used to.
The smoke coming out of my lungs are a voiceless scream
Living life in break and escape rooms are…well, not living
Holding my breath so I can breathe one day is merely surviving
My shivering frozen heart waiting for you seems like a lifetime
I forgot what is normalcy
Hiding behind the sound of my bluetooth seems exhausting
The dark cozy room fails to provide comfort
Writing about it doesn't vent as it used to
The sound of your voice is lightyear far...
It’s just too much,
Thing after a thing, and a thing
What’s your Poison... She asked me
I replied, Pain
She seems disappointed with my answer.
I asked,
What’s yours?
She said...Love
Looking at my own reflection, I enquired,
How can it be? Aren’t we the same.
She smiled and said......NO
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