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a letter to death: a fear i have now deciphered - arundhati nair & mukul jindal

i have faint memories of how

i drew pictures of you in my head

silhouettes of nothing lined the pages

inside my head and walls

that curved around me-

keeping me still,

but at the same time


my atoms swung back and forth like a pendulum in vacuum.

i do not like to have that memory,

but again this is something you've taught me-

to have things you don't like,

because they make the things you like more worthwhile.

i learned to appreciate the bad things in life too,

only to be struck back by their constant energy.

i could blame you,

but that would mean, somewhere, still letting you affect me

and you don't.

i have seen only a little

but that has been enough to

guide me

through you and not

away from you.

and here i am,

writing to you

pretending to be bigger than you.

i know i'm not,

but being smaller has its advantages

and you are not as close to the ground as i am

i can hear the tectonic plates cracking under me

you could take me right now

but i am of this ground

and i will return to it

and meanwhile,

i do not need to be worried about your reality

because unlike you,

i have a life.

and i will live it

a little more than you would have expected me to

because i do not worry about you

because i sleep knowing that if tomorrow was to be without me

i wouldn't have missed a thing.

and i will live

even after i cease to exist.


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