Thursday 3 December 2015

A Confession...

It had been cloudy all day
Just like my mind
But I am determined
A confession is all need from her
I slowly walk into her room
And open the closed windows
The floral curtains sprung to life
The pages of her book just flipped across
As I turn around to look at her
My heart aches like none
The ruffles of her bed
The dried flowers of vase
The books in shelves
The dusty floral curtains
Everything is as same
But,nothing is same at all
Frozen, I stood near the window
From here,I still see her lifeless body
Lying in the bed I made

Beads of rain fall from the cloudy sky
Just like the tears from my eyes
The feeling of her not around
Had still not sunk into me
Why was she so stubborn,
To end herself ?
I had been there for her,always
The first word she said
Still echoes in my ear
The first step she took
Still is in front of my eyes
Everything, I had, chosen for her
And yet I failed to know her
My eyes searched,for anything
I might possibly missed
To my despair, amidst her books, diaries and novels
I find a well bound black book

Heavy rains build up from drizzles
Just like my mind full of questions
Never before had I seen the book
Curious I was to open it
Surprised I was for it dated a decade back
Furious I was for she hid from me
I open the first page to find
Just two very clearly written lines
"I try to tell you mom,
   I am good on my own "
I am shaken as I read those
Not knowing what is in store
I started a very strange journey
Through each word I read
An unknown girl pieced in front of me
I was knowing my own daughter

As the rains stopped
Leaving just the dripping drops
My mind too cleared of doubts
I stared at the new persona
In my dead daughter
In search of her confession
I knew I had to confess
For I began to realize
From a treasure of words she left
I realize,"I am the murderer of my child!"

Note : A girl,belonging to my husband's extended family committed suicide a few days ago apparently for reasons unknown to her parents until then.I presume,she had lots to say but could not.This is inspired by her.

 

4 comments:

  1. Sad to hear about the girl.
    Even without that note, each line had that element of grief. Well written.

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  2. This is really heartbreaking, the poem spun around the deathbed of the daughter.

    We never realize something until its too late, when will it change

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