Words
So heavy with
emotions,
like a hard
rock, pulling me down
to the depths of
the ocean of woes,
tearing through
the half-healed wounds.
The moment I
utter or type them,
I feel a little
lighter,
like a melting
iceberg.
But, do they
carry the same weight
upon reaching
you
without losing
any on their transit
from my lips to
your ears?
from my
fingertips to your eyes?
I fear the
weight might multiply
to add to yours
For I would
regret if I transfer
the burden of my
weight onto you
So, I refrain
from uttering or typing.
Shield
You are
unimaginably important to me,
more than your
fragile ego is to you.
I derive
happiness observing the beautiful you
shunning your
shield though seldom.
I have all the
memories stored in me,
so safe and
fresh deep down in my heart
I would wish you
all the happiness that
you get from
holding tight to that shield of yours.
Your happiness
is more important to me
than mine. So,
stay happy with it, always.
But I wonder why
you need
a shield even
with me
why?
why with me?
But I shan't ask
you that
for your shield
might not guard you
against the hurt
of the why.
Extended Existence
What is the
purpose of your existence?
How will you,
who knows not to
live for yourself,
survive?
What happened to
you who never learned
to enjoy life to
the fullest, nor please others?
Always, lived
for others, thought for others,
and lived
others' lives
in fiction or in
realtime
yet, so
organically
like grass
shoots out of the Earth.
Is life even
worth living, you ask.
Does life cease
to be,
for you,
who knows not
how to live?
Then, what is
the purpose of your existence?
Even a mayfly
with a day of life span has its purpose
and will it even
know if another day was granted to it?
Won't it be
confused by the intent behind it,
what a pain will
that be for the mayfly?
Not to be done
and gone with the mundane life.
Who said one
needs to be grateful for breathing, living?
Existing on
Earth has never been this hurting-heavy.
Like lugging a
colossal cross on a fragile shoulder.
Art of music,
literature, or painting takes a little of that off your shoulder.
JAYANTHI SANKAR
JAYANTHI SANKAR: Been in
several international panels, Jayanthi Sankar’s novel ‘Misplaced Heads’ was on
the Eyelands Book Awards 2020 final list of historical fiction. Dangling
Gandhi, her short story collection won the short story in 2020 International
Book Award -American book fest and The Literary Titan award. If not creating
literary art, or reading you will find her in the nature reserves of Singapore.
Born and brought in India, she lives in there since 1990.
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