I. What Remains
My head—
God knows what it holds.
Rotten memories, perhaps,
of bygone days.
Where are those days
of my younger self?
My torrid affairs,
my haughty being?
I was a beauty once, you know—
no one could ignore me.
My tongue was sharp,
my temper short.
I could dance, sing,
control it all.
Today—
I am not even a reflection
of that self.
My memory is locked.
I keep forgetting.
II. The Day I Walked Out
That day came.
I took the plunge
and walked out of my door,
never to return.
I wanted my life back.
To be able to
freely board the bus,
go shopping,
visit neighbours,
and do whatever
I wanted.
I had forgotten it was Sunday.
I just wanted to go out.
In a hurry,
I took my bag
and my bank papers.
I even forgot
my favourite—
my phone.
Listlessly,
I continued to walk,
traversing
the tricky pavement
and the shuttered shops
till I reached the crossing.
Something had shifted.
The careful me was gone.
The light was red.
They say
someone called out,
tried to stop me,
the police waved frantically.
I don’t remember.
Only a sound.
a car,
too fast,
too close,
and then-
air,
impact,
the hard edge of the curb.
When I woke,
I was in a hospital bed.
Outside,
the world continued—
I never stepped back into it.
III. Something is Missing
My head—
God knows what it holds.
Something is always missing.
Faces slip away.
Names don’t stay.
I was a beauty once…
wasn’t I?
With blank stares,
I sit all day,
looking at walls.
I have stories
I cannot tell.
No one calls—
not even
to say “hi.”
I wait
with cloudy eyes.
No one knows
what goes on in my mind.
I have lost control
of my being.
Eat, sleep, TV.
TV, eat, sleep.
That’s what my life
has turned out to be.
Reduced to Nothing.
