Afterall, All Mine

By Sudeshna Chandra

Life is kind and cruel,

all at the same time.

It's an oxymoron and delusion we inhabit.

How could I use my puny vocabulary otherwise,

to explain this exceptional hollowness

that I seem to be filled with,

in the moments that I feel my happiest in?

In the glimpses of silence when I

almost physically feel my heart bloom,

yet feel a sharp pain accompany it all —

A tiny reminder of those small parts that went missing

several times in the past,

when I saw pieces of my heart leave

with people when I saw their pyres burn away,

or when I saw them turn their backs to me,

only never to turn back again,

or when I saw me lose myself,

seeping out of my own skin,

leaking out of my bones,

evaporating from on my pores,

effervescent and intangible,

yet ironically beautiful in its wake.

For what awaited to manifest

would be me too —

different and yet incredible,

with its own potpourri of quirks.

It would take me some ticking around the clock

to completely drape her around me,

but she would become me very soon,

holding back fragments of my old self too —

a small ode to the metamorphosis,

one that passes through a lot of ache.

She would,

every once in a while,

shadow glimpses of hearts I loved around,

to remind me of what my cerebrum threatens to forget,

and that would leave me with pain

and gratefulness.

For no matter how lost they seem,

those moments were mine —

cherished and charismatic,

filling my chasms with pure joy,

ones which I can never bring myself to regret,

or dare to forget.

For they,

whole with all their delightful peculiarities,

Were afterall 

All mine.

……

By Sudeshna Chandra