Chandni M
I remember days when laughter used to bubble from my mouth easily. I’d tilt my head back, carefree that they would see my crisscross bunny-like front teeth, eyes closed to their sneers, joy resounding in my skull for a brief moment, like soft sunlight nudging a sapling to break out of earth.
I have always carried a knot in my chest, a burden that added to my pounds on the weighing scale, an object that changed shape with age.
fear – Am I going to be shouted at today?
guilt – I shouldn’t have done that
shame – I am awkward, undesirable, even as just a friend
guilt – I am occupying more space than I should
jealous – my parent seems to love my cousin more than me
guilt – I am sorry that I am not enough
sorrow – I do not know how to live without you, how to love without you
guilt – I am sorry i am learning to
my younger brother says – it’s not that deep lil kiddo, but I continue to make a big deal out of small occurrences, I am sorry that I do. It is perhaps only I that accrues pain with compound interest, remaining the same child with the same scratched knees and elbows while grey hairs are waiting only a few years down the corner in actuality.
When I should’ve saved the sad part for later I endured, not knowing I had a choice, a choice I will be making now, to live life with child-like, nay, adult-like wonder, to make a big deal out of small occurrences – sunshine through the window, sunsets on the horizon, the sound of my partner opening the door home from work, the residual paint colour on my fingers, the sound of train on tracks, rare petrichor, dancing my way through my playlist, my heart heavy with joy.
I will forget to make this choice on days, gloom may cast shadows on my will, but I will remember, I must remember to laugh easy again.
