Author: Aashi Sharma, Class VIII F
And somewhere along the way–
One grows rather fond of contemplation
It is only natural human tendency,
For one to desire to connect
Because we are not bodies
We are souls–
Souls engulfed by skin and flesh
It is only natural tendency for one to attach
For one to be a sister, a mother, a daughter, a lover, a friend
Whatever it may be to someone else
However, how may one be so certain?
It is only a selfish, selfish thought of mine
To surrender into their mind–
To know what I am
a sister, a mother, a daughter, a lover, a friend–
Whatever it is
But alas! I cease to possess any supernatural abilities
One may be beseeched upon
In that very dark, dreary state of mind
Maybe when the clock strikes past midnight
What if–
What if they don’t even see a soul?
What if they just see the nothingness?
The numbness, the hollow eyes, the darkness, the hands crinkling grey–
What if they don’t see a sister, a mother, a daughter, a lover, a friend–
What if they see nothing…but a void?
And so one may start growing rather fond of that contemplation
One grows rather forsaken at the thought of surrendering into their mind
One grows rather–
Attached
To that static space in purgatory
The space where one may latch onto the flickering hope of their mind
The hope of being a soul in someone else’s distortion of time
And so thus I think this contemplation–
This contemplation in our mind
Is the only certainty we will ever have
But be it upon my own wild soul
I’ll believe that fragile glass of certainty is the purest form of hope— till it inevitably cracks.
