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A Day That Never Happened

By Gowri Mohan J

A nerve-wracking stillness morphed into my stance,

Threatening to tip over the edge.

Patience turns into a portrait of a frozen river at the peak of a cruel winter.

Is this what a silent rebellion feels like?

"I know a place." - my heart says.

Shoelaces untied, shirt tucked out,

Running towards the tail end of nowhere,

To a place with no maps and misdirection.

Where even the slight brush of the air feels irreplaceable.

Brisk enough to detract from welled-up eyes.

As an eternity was tucked away in the palm of my hands.

I raised it outwards and eased my hold, and set it free,

Like a wounded pigeon I'd earnestly looked after.

I watched intently - never breaking my line of sight - till it became a mere blip in the sky.

"I've compromised so much of myself", I remember thinking.

So I wrote down my worries on sand,

And waited for the waves to trail them inwards.

But a strange fatigue came over me and I ended up writing just my name.

And in a streak of virtuous white and blue, the writing was gone.

I was gone.

Nevertheless, something remained,

Hostile and shivering,

Weathered down by years of neglect and disdain.

Bound to be replaced by suffocating conventions of what makes a life worth living.

And in that moment I realised,

That all losses till now were gains;

a much-awaited coming undone.

"Have you been crying?" - someone had asked.

Or maybe I wished they had.

At this juncture in my life, resentment could only take you so far.

For the days that have been promised have already began their march.

And it's time for me to catch up.

By Gowri Mohan J

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