496
Poetry
I Am Weak
Kasturi Ghate
I remember I was eleven
And absolutely in love with English
When I forgot to bring my Wren and Martin (textbook) to class one day
I faced the full fury of the teacher
And knew I would get hit come what may.
I remember my hands RED for the next three days
I did not cry
I AM WEAK.
I was thirteen
When my mother asked me
If I wanted to go to Hyderabad
And make badminton my love, my career
I denied for I was safe in my little bubble of ' Home'
Down unknown paths I dared not roam
I realized I am not a dreamer but I shed no tears
I AM WEAK.
I was sixteen
When I realized
I don't dare to dream for fear of nightmares
That consume my conversations with my constants
I only do so
When I meet new people
Strangers to whom
I owe no commitments
I AM WEAK.
I was twenty one
When I knew the only time I could speak about love
Is when I search for lost souls
Going up in candle flames
Trying to make conversation
With eyes stuck in photo frames
That moment when it doesn't really matter
I AM WEAK.
I was twenty two
When I stopped believing in friendship
For every color I choose to trust
I will never be the damsel in distress
So I paint myself the villain
In a blunderous cloud of dust
I never cry
I AM WEAK
Today,
As I take this poisonous Elixir
Which lifts away the pain
It brings me my freedom
With nothing else to gain
I shall not cry
But spread my wings and fly
I AM NOT WEAK.