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Widowhood ~ Of Strength, Courage, And Sufferings

It feels like it was yesterday when I

fell for a man who loved me more

than I ever loved myself.

It feels like it was yesterday when I

wore the embroidery of his love on my

silken skin.

The vows we took around the holy

fire keep visiting me every night

when I look at the empty side

of the bed.

With the last vow, I knew you, and I

are tied in an imperishable bond

and will stay together, side by side,

cherishing the places our love

finds a way to.

I rejoiced at losing myself in the

the warmth of your embrace with

the dusk falling, and my soul

rejuvenated every time I woke up

with your scent on the pleats of my saree.

I remember how you loved waking

up to the chime of my bangles,

the tinkling sound of my anklets.

The heaven I had unearthed in

you were my happy place,

and your arms were my safe haven.

The moon takes me back to

the days when we used to sit

on the terrace and share stories

over a cup of coffee, do you reminisce about those precious moments too?

Me chuckling at your lame jokes

and you, telling one after another,

just to make me laugh.

Everything seems like a dream

to me now, from holding your hands

to exchanging smiles,

from wearing your scent to

sleeping in your shirt.

They told me to get rid of your

clothes from the wardrobe,

they asked me to scrap your

pillow, and do away with your

favorite lavender-scented candles,

but I didn’t, and I never will.

How do I make peace with the truth that it's over?

How do I put an end to the story

that has flourished in every corner of our house?

They are not just your belongings,

but the souvenirs of our unfinished

yet everlasting love.

The transition of being loved to left

was devastating.

Not having you around,

not seeing you anymore,

breaks me a little more every day

when I look at your ironed linen

clothes in the wardrobe,

I fall apart every night I sleep

in your shirt and hug your pillow

thinking of you.

If only I knew, you and I are not

going to make it together

till the end,

I would have never left you alone,

I would have never screamed

at you,

I would have never said things

I didn’t mean.

Now that you’re gone,

all I’m left with is an empty house

whose corner knows my grief.

The walls that listen to the elegies

I write to you every night before

I cry myself to sleep,

the ceiling that stares me in the eye

and is a witness of the turmoil

I bury in me.

By Adity

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