The string of kites.
An old unfinished story.
And through the babbling fights,
She stood dwindling-
The past was not painful-
But why it pricked,
Her bare feet in that old lane.
Her laughter rejoiced.
And so were her tears.
Amidst the mocking faces,
She preserved her silence.
It has always been there,
With her, within her.
Her shadow, her silence…
Searches no more home.
Feel her in her soliloquies,
As silent as her eyes…
None will know her.
None shall reach…
To her old unfinished story.
Through that lane-
Dusty and dark, yet loved.
Let her story remain abandoned.
For, she won’t be she,
She will laugh her soul out,
And cry till it rain!
Her eyes will be vibrant.
And will let go her silence…
Let the story remain unfinished…
She plucks out the thorn
And it bleeds...
Her bare feet!
Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel "Hridayaninadini"
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