Minal Rita

“Shivers run down my spine
When I look back at those days,”
She said while she flipped the pages of her diary.
A girl aged nine-teen was heading towards the not so teen life,
A war zone that she’d made through,
Unsure if she could call herself a brave soldier or a martyr by that time?
These seven years, I was on a roller coaster ride,
The disquiet worries me,
as I wouldn't want to ever rewind and live back in that time.
I pour an ocean in the diary,
And bound it every night,
Treasure thoughts to myself,
And keep it away,
From judgements, accusations and influences,
To point out those signs!
A phase where I was evolving,
Where I was tagged innumerably,
A daughter, A lioness and A human if I was allowed to be.
I being the apple of my parents’ eye,
Was transforming each day,
Afraid I was, just like them,
Of not being trapped,
by the dark world which is out there.
Endless rumbles and voices rolled in my mind,
The pressure built up each time,
it became tough for me to fly,
To be aloud of those feelings ,
That I could express while walking on the most crucial line.
As I walked out of those protected walls,
To a place where I spent my early days,
Among the teen gang,
Where we were shadowed by mentors.
Who were supportive, yet anchored to the over critical societal state.
Every single day was a battlefield,
Right from scoring the A stars, to be a little cheeky at least.
I was a part of the fight,
Where i was to stand out from the rest,
Not just by grades but even by being a magnet
to the most charming lad in grade eighth.
Time was gushing and so were my emotions,
I had started to fumble and was nervous of the love notion.
Eventually that mask on love,
Was unveiled,
And I was trapped in a lust cage.
Blessed as I was I can say,
There were pals who roped me out of that inexplicable stage,
Perhaps eventually it distant me from all those mates,
and I could barely relocate.
Now that I look back at those days,
When I sat all by myself,
Trying to fight the good and the worst phase,
I strongly feel I rose like a phoenix,
From the fire which was lit by the hypocrites.
There would be so many like me,
Who went down that drain,
Where all they walked was a pavement, with burning coal and not a cobbled lane.
Alas! I am proud of myself, of who i am now,
I can stand strong in front of all those,
Who tried their best to knock me like a pack of cards...
I thank my pillars, my family to be by my side,
It ensures me of my being,
And why I should be worthy of this life.
I wish every teen could feel the same way,
Being head-strong but soft hearted,
For those who adore you even when you are in pain.
I wish this war comes to an end someday,
When each one of us bears a reflection of thyself,
And wouldn't want their own teen to walk down alone
Like we probably did!

Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published