Sarthak Chaturvedi
I walk past the street
With a smile known forever.
As a phrase impossible
Presses against dry lips.
I told no one but those three-
"A secret with more liberty than me".
They offered words
Which gave relief
But why do they stare weirdly?
With eyes almost overprotective,
A look never seen before.
Looking back I get lost,
In memories of the boy
With the loudest voice of all.
The one most carefree,
Who ignored all the sounds
Of people who judged him.
The same boy now you see,
Drives so silently
Along the petrichor,
Afraid what the world will say,
When he steps out quite
From the door of his therapist.
"Learn to be happy,
Just like your brother"
Mother told her so proudly.
All I could do was smile
With addled lips held tight.
Mum, am a coward,
Too worried what you will say
If you see me in disarray.
I got such an ugly smile,
But I wonder why
You see beauty when I lie?
I wonder if you will see me weak,
If I tell you how I feel.
"Such a pity that he's gone crazy,
My nephew's friend rohit"
said my neighbour Nonchalantly.
Making a remark galore,
A remark indelible.
Breaking my resolve,
The way they broke his.
I wonder what will people say
If I say I am depressed.
Much afraid to chase the veracity
That I yearn with all my heart,
Will I ever be as free
As the secret with more liberty than me?