The Hole

Sometimes a hole is created in one’s life,
because someone leaves,
never to come back again
someone who cannot be replaced.
The hole then leaves you grieving,
the air you breathe feels heavy,
the tears from your eyes isn’t healing
the wound deeper than it seems.

Most of the times the hole appears suddenly,
although you’ve been receiving the hints
every now and then
through urgent phone calls in the middle of the meetings
but it always leaves you devastated
as if you never expected it to be there
right there, in the middle of somewhere
right in your world.

The big hole
will not let you to live
normally,
it will always haunt you –
waking you up in the middle of the night
gasping for the air
wishing that person was near
for you to breathe
it will make you hollow
from the inside and out
till you get a grip on yourself
and say this is not how it’s meant to be.

The hole will not be filled
the wound will not be healed
until one day,
when the memories will replace
the vaccum where the person left
of the times your bajai told you stories
and of the times your baje cooked you haluwa,
of the times your mama sang to you to sleep
and of the times your fufu listened to your dreams.
The hole will now be a sanctuary
to visit now and then
not to forget how you were
before life took its toil on you.

A.N – A friend lost his grandmother few months back. And today, I learnt that a beloved brother lost his too. And because I lost both of my grandparents from my mother’s side, I like to believe I know how it feels. Losing someone, so suddenly. This poem is for both of them but mostly for dai, for his pain is still raw, still there. Lots of love from this little girl.

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