A poignant, heart-wrenching poem, for Shail’s friend, who succumbed to Covid. A tribute exclusively for Different Truths.
Feisty fireflies of freedom traverse the crowded caravan of careless cruising, drowning me in an air of heightened self-obsessed aura making me gasp for zephyr like she must have done in that lonely medical ward, loosening her grip on the freedom to live. Pain, fear – paling substitutes, mere instruments to freeze her freedom on the life path to wean oneself away from all that was restricting, limiting like a lonely green dustbin lying at the end of the road waiting for a delayed trash truck during pandemic times. “Don’t indulge her” a part of me advises. “You are not letting her go free” another piece of wise counsel treads in out of nowhere. But, try as I might, her presence in memories and after death sticks onto me like a friendly leech that feasts on my emotions only to make me heal from a hurt that loves and beckons. “what if the soul wants to live her sudden deprivation of freedom through my sense of loss?” my mind, the devil’s advocate is at it again. And yet, I hear her out- her whining woes, her relatable regrets, her grinding grudges on her final journey deluged by a cocktail of emotions going out of fashion, I hallucinate a freedom stride on the sea of humanity like a modern saint treading on bubbles of water, where the dead, the hurting, the living, the imprisoned and the free merge like a sea of variant colours uniting to vanquish the undying securities of the subconscious hoping for a nirvana out of nothingness. When she is done, she will set me free. Until then, I shall mourn and bleed…
Visual by Different Truths
This is so beautiful and emotional. I can relate to it.
Thank you so much.
Thank you Tabassum. Your comment means a lot.