That day, I was rowing past the “island of murmurs”. And lo; Whispers and more whispers.
“Who is there? Who is there?” – I wanted to know.
None cared to answer back. And again the murmurs began. I overheard them saying to one another:
All that resolve broke off (that I had when I was in the womb), once the dawn kissed my forehead; yes my first sunrise. Little, half-open eyes and yet I could know I had arrived on the stage of this world. And before I could understand the game, years passed by. This might have been my longest phase in a human body and yes I admit I am deeply identified with something I should not have – untrue identities I had gathered with time, superimposed rather and know not how to break-free. I should have known, all that is not worth it, and somehow today I know, but yet I am not able to go back to my home; yes my real home. I am weary and tired, restless and anxious to travel to my land. I don’t know what should I do!
I wish I would not have known all that I know now,
A heart burdened with all the grandeur,
The same old mountains, and the same old lands,
The same old seas, and the same known shores,
The old barks, and it’s older roots,
Am weary of all of it.
I wish to drown myself in the stream of the unknown,
With my hands and feet tied,
Never to swim back,
To any shore, I had liked!
©Debanjalee Sen, 2019
Thank you for reading 🙂