My son’s diary

By Mrinal Bhardwaj

I held the diary of him and opened it
there was only one page which wasn’t blank
it seemed like the page is about to speak itself
and it did speak, the following words

dressing up in the light,
wearing the shoes that i polished yesterday night
concluding overall i look just fine
now, time for the smile that i find little difficult to wear
but no other choice
to hide the tears for those,
who are not near

am not alone
people often talk to me,
to only embarrass and laugh at me
am not a toy But real,
then why they treat me like i don’t feel ?

my father asks ‘what happened to you
your smile doesn’t feel real ?’
i just smile again,
cause i don’t have words to explain about the things i’ve got to fear
my father says never feel alone in life
but would he feel proud
when he would know
the absurd jokes on my identity,
those laughs on my gender
never leaves me alone,
not even a single time

i feel stranded here,
where the strain of the fake smile
increases year by year
when will the time come ?
where i will feel loved
when will the time come ?
where i will fill
rest of the pages of my diary
about all the good things
i will get to experience.

i put the diary down,
and called my son
i put my glasses down
and told him to remove the fake smile he wore
i hugged him but we both couldn’t control
So we cried,
like we’ve never cried before
‘you okay beta ?’ i asked
‘never felt better papa’ he replied