I don't have the sky over my head,
The land underneath fails to hold me.
I stagger between the best of both worlds
Too plain to be a human, too bold to be a spirit.
My creased skin sparkles under the magic dust,
But I wish I could get rid of it, my past aflictions!
I wish to see what I couldn't blinded by time,
I wish a whisper from the past could set me free.
I wish I could die slowly and yet all at once.
I wish against the wishes that life holds.
I wish I could rob the secrets of Pandora's box,
I wish I could sing sleeping beauty a little lullaby ,
I wish to tell the happy prince, it's okay, I see him cry!
I wish to tell everyone that it's okay to wear one's skin
That it's okay to be what you want to be
That being alive were a blessing enough
That the sky still smiles at them
That the ground is still theirs
That they still get the best of one world
That they are alive, that they are free
That they are everything that I failed to be.
I am the eldest grandchild in my family. And being the eldest, I was pampered a great deal by my grandparents. My aama (grandma) and baa (grandpa) always shielded me from every possible dangers including thrashings from maa. I have pleasant memories of evening story sessions as grandpa took me to bed. Aama would oil my hair and tie pony tails which resembled coconut trees that I used to draw. Sundays meant elaborate sessions with my grandparents. Baa would trim my nails, aama would fondle me to sleep. Their bed room was literally my playing room, my story book reading room, my painting room and what not. With time, as I grew, I got a room of my own but their room was still my favourite one. When I left for hostel, I missed them more than I missed my parents. It was in the year 2014, I had come home after my exams when aama received a pressure stroke . She couldn't make it. I had spent a month as he lay sick on her bed. All of a sudden, there was a role reversal. I could
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