From my diary
Today, when I look back at the journey of these seven years from 2019 to 2026, it feels as if time perhaps did not increase the age of my body
but these seven years have aged my soul by centuries, snatching away my innocence and carefreeness, filling my lap with the poison of awareness
The faces whose loyalty I had blind faith in,
they changed so heartlessly that the garment of trust was torn to shreds
The bright dreams adorned in my eyes shattered like glass, and the desires smoldering in the hidden chambers of my heart suffocated and died
But the greatest agony of this heavy journey is the traumas upon which even the ointment of time remained ineffective
They are no longer the blurred traces of the past, but permanent wounds embedded within my being that silently bleed in my every solitude
I am breathing, but the existence hidden behind this silent face is no longer the same as before
*Quatrain*
The garment was torn, the pride of loyalty broke
What all have I seen in the journey of seven years
The glass of dreams shattered, the connection remained no more
I saw a living funeral in the form of life
M.S. Anjum Darbhangwi