Grief

By Chaitra Ramalingegowda

Grief was a lonely girl growing up,

no friend nor foe,

often left alone,

alone with her thoughts;

only averted gazes and

whispered words

dogging her footsteps.

Grief was a lonely girl growing up,

no word of succor,

no tender caress to speak of,

no hug nor a friendly pat,

wandering by herself,

tears and sniffles

following her everywhere.

Grief was a lonely girl,

whose fate didn’t change

as she grew to be a woman,

more loneliness and denial

than when she was a child,

doomed to be all alone,

for all eternity – or so it seemed.

Grief was a lonely woman,

whose only companions were

the shunned and the aged,

the abandoned and the lost,

the ones left behind,

as well as the ones

who did the leaving;

hugging them,

though no one had hugged her;

patting them,

though no one had patted her;

being a silent companion,

offering succor,

though not one had offered it to her.

Grief was a lonely old lady,

fated to be unacknowledged,

destined to be shunned,

doomed to be by herself,

but for ephemeral moments

of companionship –

stuck in her inescapable aloneness.

By Chaitra Ramalingegowda