Beginnings

Beginnings

Corner me into a small space

And squeeze my childhood into a glass bottle

Visible, tangible

Only through the mouth-piece opening;

Giving off wafts of nostalgia, pity

Self-pity;

Of warm sunny afternoons

Lived with a boding fear

That you would catch us behind your back,

On yet another childish endeavour

What must I do to relay

What words have lost to say too long ago,

Infused into writing

Entangled with, perhaps, some broken pieces of my heart

In that search for Person

For Identity

Or even for Belonging

I've started on a journey

I do not yet know,

Where it might see its end

Cuts like a knife

Through the threads of my soul

To pierce yet another fountain,

Left forgotten,

Left unexplored

Leaving me more vulnerable than I was before.

Leave me some dignity, leave me my writings

But in that struggle for ‘Om,’

I think I exist best

Seeking those corners

Of misty peripherals