X's Story

Hello! I’m X.

You know, like those businessmen you see in your textbooks?

Or that person who is rich enough to buy 63 houses in one go?

But, that isn’t who I really am.

I could be you, or you, or even you.

I could actually be any one of you.

So put yourself in somebody else’s shoes and listen

To what I have to say.

“Dear People of the World.

I’m tired and sick.

Medically, I have an excellent record, But

That’s because my illness is something beyond.

Every time you fat-shamed me

Or every time you spoke behind my back,

I listened.

Every time you mocked my passions

Or every time you changed the subject because what I spoke was ‘boring’,

I was there.

And every time you tried being my boss

Or every time you treated me like I were your slave,

I bore it all.

You see, I never had the courage to stop you.

People said I was too sweet to stand up

That I was too weak to react

That I was too voiceless to slam you on your face.

But today, that changes.

Because every time I saw my friends turn into foes,

Every time the news read ‘Suicide due to Depression’,

My patience came down.

It’s obvious, I know.

I know you saw this coming.

I know that you knew that one day I’d know that I’d have to speak up.

But have you even tried to know why?

Not superficially, but deeply.

Do you know what goes on inside?

You couldn’t.

Cuz’ neither do I. nor do they

Who you mocked for being different

Who you isolated for having a passion that did not fit them

Who stabbed you with their invisible swords.

Dear People of the World.

Many people have told you this.

Thousands have asked you to stop.

Let me add another to the requests to stop.

Please.”

Well, that’s what I had to say.

My question is, what about you?

You could be on this side of the road,

Or even on the other.

We’re just separated by a huge black void.

That, ironically, isn’t empty.

It’s your choice which side you want to be on.

It’s your choice to where you wanna go.

Until you take your decision,

Let this ring in your mind
S.
T.
O.
P. 
Stop.

Reminiscence

The very sound of that call indicated

That she was well, gone-

Which would mean no more slips in our identities

No more “No serials before Mamas and Mamis”.

No more tensed call-outs when we’d disappear, or

No more laughs about wrong or right calculations.

And suddenly, what once was just a memory

Has started feeling like a legacy.

Who thought silver spoons could be nothing but material?

Silver on silver is twice as valuable and

That’s who she wa-is.

The very sound of that call indicated

The creation of a deep dark void

One that catapulted itself upon us.

A black hole so massive yet partial

That it gobbled up the universe but let others live.

But who knew those ten minutes would be so vivid-

Clear enough to take her children to her documentary;

The documentary of the life of a fighter.

The life of a mother who taught her people to forgive.

The life of a freelance warrior who never went to war,

The life of a person, who, in an instant, went afar.

The very sound of that call indicated

The fact the no one wanted to hear.

The very sound of that call confirmed

That she was no more near.

The very sound of that call indicated

That we’d never see her again
The very sound of that call reminds me 

Of that voice we shall never hear.

The Voice of Nature

I am a million-year-old mother

A limitless container

And a voiceless prisoner.

Who, in return for protection,

Expects nothing.

I am a lush green bed

An abode of luxury

And a face the smiles the most

Despite any pain

That her children inflict on her.

I am a versatile woman

The iron supporting her pillars

Who, in future, would rise

To probably destroy their foundation-

They, the strongest and brawniest of their kind.

I am a ground base

A composite package-

One that has everything you need.

But yet doesn't demand a price

And doesn't imprison you for 'thievery'.

I am a part of you.

A part of your arms, your feet, your soul.

One that isn't controlled by the mass in your head-

Yet, one that has but little dictation

And a direction that’s always ignored.

I am called your Habitat

Rather, the habitat of your habitat.

Having more than one name,

And yet all the same;

Without any fame.