The Secret Room

By Marena Saji

Faded walls, a wooden table

An old bed, a creaky door;

The highlights of fifteen year old’s adore.

‘Cool’, ‘popular’, ‘spoilt’ define his label.

Stern in front of the cracked mirror every morning 

A smirk and smile overshadow his face

But returns without a mask every evening

Clearer, unhappy eyes with no smile, unable to cope up in the race. 

Unwrapped tons of gifts on his birthday fiesta

Melodious laughter and songs filled the house; certainly a day it was!

But no soul seen beside the sick lad in his room with silence buzz

 Except his older sister who played well as a jester.

Headset on his ears the whole day

‘Spoilt Child!’ , they may say.

For only I have seen his tears and might

He simply can’t hear his parents fight! 

The timid lad grew over the years

Finally learnt the art to mask his fears 

But the mirror can see and walls can hear his cry and gloom

Nothing is hidden from his room; his secret room.

By Marena Saji