After many days, I realize that wherever you go, the sun, earth and moon will be the same. I left everything back then, my mother, my brother and a few of my possessions too. I had to leave Neva, the old library where I used to read, as I became friends with books and some characters. I left everything empty. I build my storyline and my poetry in the garb of disappearance. And on June 15th 2023, I vanished. I had to make myself prepared enough to hide. My hiding place, no one knew me, I didn’t see anyone.
I went ahead with my routine day, and I was confirmed missing by the day. I was missing the people to which I had attached, the circle of handful of friends who wished to see me. I went along the lines separated, distanced half-way through the mist of silence. I liked it, my silence, I became friends with my silence as it was the true companion in the journey.
My world was my room; I adjusted to it. I bathe in the sunlight that came to me. I rejoiced in the voice of the night. I plucked out the moon from the narrow sky and placed it on my paper. I wrote about the moon and living stars. They all appeared again tonight. I shared my thoughts with them, they seemed to reply to me back. I watched them till they disappeared and to come again the next night. I had to wait for the days to turn into weeks and then to months. As the day came back every dawn, so did the night too.
I had never climbed a mountain, never saw my brother coming and never felt that mother was there watching everything.
- Sidharth P K (Writer/Poet/Columnist), is available in +91, 8078155651, lordccplm@gmail.com)
