I never touched him or felt his aura,
but a strange affinity has arisen,
I think it is the veil of Maya I was warned about,
no gifts, no kisses but mere belongingness.
Grandma would taunt and scold me,
for not blinking my eyes while watching shows,
and rubbing them too often,
ever since I have found fault in my habits,
no one cares about the void in which I fell,
it is my business to keep my Self conscious,
It is a taboo to dream with open eyes,
or pay a little less attention,
but why did I do it, no one tried to understand.
I have filled the lack with absences,
the absent friend, lover, father, siblings, capital,
have made me laugh and cry,
mine is the life of a character in a book.
Rity Choubey 