The Boy who was always there - By Divya Moodley

Written By: Divya Moodley

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the realm of poetry, Divya Moodley's "The Boy who was always there" stands out as a poignant exploration of childhood bonds and the enduring nature of friendship. Submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this piece draws readers into a world of memories and unspoken connections. The narrative is subtly woven through the lens of everyday experiences, capturing the essence of a relationship that, though seemingly ordinary, leaves an indelible mark on the heart.

About the Work

This poem is a tender reflection on the seemingly mundane yet profoundly impactful relationships formed in childhood. Moodley's work delves into themes of nostalgia and the quiet, unassuming ways in which people can become integral parts of our lives. The imagery is vivid yet understated, capturing the essence of growing up with someone who feels like family. The poem's gentle tone and reflective mood invite readers to contemplate their own cherished connections and the small tokens that keep memories alive.

The Boy who was always there

Original Submission by Divya Moodley

The Boy Who Was Always There

I don't remember meeting you.

Which feels strange,

because most people can tell you

the exact moment someone became important.

For us, there wasn't a moment.

You were just there.

Two years old,

then five,

then eight,

then twelve—

growing up in the background

of every version of me,

like a song I never noticed

because I heard it every day.

You were my brother

in the completely unremarkable way

that childhood brothers are.

You knew my stupid jokes.

I knew yours.

We argued over nothing

and forgot about it five minutes later.

We grew up assuming

that tomorrow would look like today,

because why wouldn't it?

I never saved your number.

That's probably the funniest part.

I saved numbers for people

I barely spoke to,

but never yours.

Why would I need it?

I saw you every day.

And then one day,

I didn't.

There was no dramatic goodbye,

no final conversation

that belonged in a movie.

Just a friendship

that somehow became a memory

while we were still young enough

to think we'd have forever.

That year,

you gave me a bracelet.

I don't think either of us knew

it would become important.

You probably thought,

Here.

I probably thought,

Thanks.

And then you left my everyday life,

and somehow that little bracelet

didn't.

Three years.

It's still on my wrist.

I don't wear it because I'm waiting

for the past to come back.

I wear it because sometimes

the smallest things remember for us.

It remembers being twelve.

It remembers ordinary days.

It remembers a friendship

that never needed a photograph

to prove it existed.

And sometimes I wonder

what would happen

if I saw you again.

Not in some perfect movie scene.

Just—

standing in the cereal aisle

at a grocery store.

Or waiting for coffee.

Maybe you'd look older

in the way everyone does

when you haven't seen them

since childhood.

Maybe I'd stare for a second

and think,

No way.

Maybe you'd recognise me first.

Maybe we'd laugh

at how weird it is

that we used to know

every little thing about each other,

and now we'd have to ask,

“So... what have you been up to?”

I'd want to tell you everything.

Not because I need

to get anything back.

Just because you missed

a few chapters.

And I'd want to hear yours too.

I'd probably still have

that stupid bracelet on.

You'd probably point at it

and say,

“You still wear that?”

And I'd shrug.

Because how do you explain

that something can become

part of you

without ever meaning to?

How do you explain

that you were my brother

before I was old enough

to understand what that meant?

Maybe I'll get your name

tattooed in a foreign language one day.

Not because I'm sad.

Maybe because someday

someone will ask what it means,

and I'll tell them,

“Family.”

They might ask,

“Who?”

And I'll smile.

Because I won't need

to explain the whole story.

I'll just know

there was once a boy

who was there when I was two,

who stayed until I was twelve,

and somewhere along the way

became part of the person

I grew into.

And if I ever see you again,

I hope it's somewhere ordinary.

A grocery store.

A coffee shop.

A Tuesday afternoon.

Because maybe that's fitting.

You were never some grand story.

You were just my brother.

You were always there.

And maybe, someday,

you will be again.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, celebrates the diverse voices and stories of writers from around the world. It provides a platform for poets and writers to share their unique perspectives, offering readers a glimpse into the myriad facets of human experience. This prestigious competition honors the creativity and passion of participants, showcasing the power of words to inspire and connect.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Divya Moodley for sharing "The Boy who was always there" with us. Your participation in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 enriches the literary tapestry with its tender portrayal of friendship and memory. We look forward to seeing more of your evocative storytelling and wish you continued success in your creative journey.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.