It slipped. 7 months. Too long to stay the grief it seems. She remembered the 7th thirteenth after 7 days of the passing away of the 7th born.
Try however hard, the grief refuses to stay the way it began; it seems to change shape the way smoke from a fire changes as it drags itself away from the source and mingles with the rest and become colorless, soulless.
With no one to pick the line on the other end, the phone rings and rings; and one day, it slips her hand.
A fire that singes only the heart and soul douses itself with no tear gas; and one day, even tears dry.
Crouching with just a pillow to my heart and stomach stifle I the ball of grief; lest it also slip away…
Hello, and thanks a ton for stopping by! Here you'll find the ramblings of a girl err...woman left uninterrupted, or a woman left to her own devices! It's in such moments of uninterrupted ecstasy I find myself, far, far away from the madding crowd, where an Oak tree, shepherds me. ;)
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I've moved to Medium
If you came here looking for me, thank you. I am humbled and delighted. 😚 I now blog in Medium. You are welcome to read my stories there .
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It feels like am almost on the verge of treading the beaten track, what with no blog posts for almost a year, and what’s the only reas...
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A few years ago, I overheard a couple of feminist friends talking about surrogacy and the need for a more nuanced debate in India, and how a...
2 comments:
And so much as happened since then. Catch the day by the heart, live to the fullest, and let the grief evaporate.
~M
Such deep sorrow, I can feel it, its alive...
Let it go, slowly.
Its too big a loss, I know, but, as they say, life goes on.
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