A Dormant Warriors’ Wound.

My father’s friend

His brother,

Whose daughter

For me a complete stranger.

 

A 19 something girl

Docile but not fragile,

A smart intelligent girl

Who was just beginning to rise.

 

Staying in an urban city

Away from her parents and family,

She was inching towards her dream

Wanting her achievements to scream.

 

One wintry day, she caught a fever

Nothing much, may be just cough and cold,

A week went by and she lost consciousness

Her family flew to her in all concomitance.

 

A few days in the hospital

And al fell well,

She came back with a little wiggle

To spend some time with family and friends; just like a Belle.

 

A one moth went by

Laughing and living,

And she was preparing to bid god by

Giving slightest thought towards existing.

 

But wait what________

Hospitals and ambulances and doctors and nurses?

Blood freezing in the brains?

Paralytic attacks?

 

But, wait what_________

Coma, you say?

Mind not working

But the heart beating?

 

But, wait what________

The heartbeat stopped?

The body fell rigid

And_______ The End!

 

The father shocked

The brother denies

Her mother

_____She simply cried.

 

Words and consolations are provided

But how could it ever work?

Pity and tears were shared

But the family from inside- was broke.

 

I didn’t realize

Why did it affect me so much?

I had never even met the person

Then why did I lose myself and cry?

 

It bothered me so much

It shook me so much,

I hid myself and cried

I didn’t know how her folks even tried.

 

But the cliché says- the show must go on

But they say- a woman is too sentimental,

But they say_ we draw others troubles and make them their own

Why do you want to mend yourself when the

Wound is not your own.

 

And so I smile

I gather myself and I go to work,

Doing about everything without a murk

But adding to my heart yet another mark of vile.

 

But the wounds is not my own

So I must be left with a little brawn,

And so I begin again to walk the paths of unknown

Welcoming what He next throws from His throne.

 

And because, it was

My fathers’ friends,

His brother, whose daughter

For me a complete stranger.

 

I am just a little shaken

And I know I will reawaken,

I just cannot begin to think

Of the horrendous gloom on them befallen.

 

But since it’s not my wound

What have I to lose_____

She, to me was a complete stranger

But I hope for her to be her own avenger.

 

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This NAPOWRIMO thing, great so far, I mean to say I am enjoying it. But there is something I have to say now. More like get it out because I can’t keep it in anymore, and also I think if I get it out and share with everyone else, I might as well take things seriously. So last November, I don’t know what happened and I started writing poetry, just for the sake of writing them and many of them still remain unpublished. But Come Jan, I decided that I will try and write one poetry every single day and may be after a few months I will have something I will want to publish, more like I will try to publish. So far, I have stuck with the resolution, of course poetry doesn’t flow every day, but still have stuck with the plan, going against it only occasionally. I really, really want to publish something I write, I don’t care if it’s published by a publishing house or it is self published, but I want that to happen. As I say this now, here, only to make myself more committed towards this, so that I start taking it more seriously. nothing else.

So far, the poetries that involved the Napowrimo, (Except this one) were meant for my book, so if you have read them you can tell me if at all it could ‘EVER’ amount to anything.

In true anticipation of your reviews!!

And please be as much critical as you can be. I will work on whatever is wrong with my work, or me 😉

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36 thoughts on “A Dormant Warriors’ Wound.”

  1. Oh this reminds me of something very similar ….my FIL’s friend’s daughter same age … happened something similar to her……it’s been a couple of years now but the mother has still not come out of the trauma ….. I feel the emotions here ….you are doing great with poetry keep going my friend

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your poetry touches the heart, dear Moushmi; this is the aim of poetry – deeply profound meanings that take the reader far beyond the written word and the subject – as do yours.
    Keep your dream going, Moushmi… I love to read your thoughts.. A book would be glorious!
    xoxoxo

    Liked by 1 person

  3. So heartbreaking but so well written! Loved it absolutely!! The way you wrote it skipped my heartbeats many times….While reading the lines i dont know why but dickinson came to my mind for a while! Not comparing you with her but have been reading her work lately and now yours! 😀
    I did notice you are writing daily and coming up with one gem after another! Now i know why!! A poem a day…wow!! The consistency and quality in your poems is marvellous! I mean to come up with such amazing and innovative lines which are blended in perfection – speaks of some serious talent really!! How do you do this!! What a wonderful brain resides inside your head!! Im so impressed and in awe once again now!! Sheer intelligence, intellect, observation power, empathy, feelings, language and heart- all combined into one! Im falling short of words now…amazing truly! Hats off to you!! Your creative juices are in full flow!!!
    There is so much hidden talent in this world which it needs to see!! Im so happy you will be publishing these one day!!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I said what i truly felt! You are being very humble. May be because you have come across some great writers and would be comparing to their work but to the tiny knowledge of mine this is at par with the best i have read! Different criteria of comparison probably if you feel it is no brilliance. To me your recent poems are outstanding and they are even evolving into something better. I cannot write even half as good as this even if i try to! Hence a lot of respect and awe for your work.

        Liked by 1 person

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