A small dedication to everyone who partakes in these myriad feelings of ‘missing’.
Scrambling through the box
I got hundred miles past
The One in a dozen
Just meant to festoon my room
There are posters of everything, well,
Or at least the essence of ‘things’ I’ve grown up feeding on.
I picture the right spots for the right things
What goes on the wall by the bedside and
The one I’ll face getting up every morning.
There’s stuff for the study table too-
Frames, a night lamp, a calendar
(to remind me how quick or slow the time goes by)
And a few books- you know the entrepreneurial ones of sorts.
Everything seems to be in its ‘place’
Except my heart may be
That thumps so hard
It could displace itself any moment.
Is it something I didn’t place right?
I look around seemingly clueless
And NOW, it hits me!
Two years hence, same time around
When I got to leave for another place
With those dust laden frames
I once embellished my room with.
I take off all the posters
But the glue marks remain
The people you met
Words you said and spaces you frequented
Will soon become that white and gray picturesque
Like in a dream.
And suddenly one day, you’ll reminisce even the tiny niceties
That you abandon all this while
But more often than not
Your heart comes undone
Unsettled, craving for just those little niceties
You abandoned all this while
And just so you’ll wonder
Sitting on a warm night in December
Did you take a part of this with you
Or left a part of you here behind?
About the author,
Class of 2018