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A poem about the hope peddlers during pandemic, by Mamta, exclusively for Different Truths.
Did you read my story?
Might make you feel less lonely, less apart, less empty
Simply because it’s a narrative of us all.
It’s an assurance
Like a mother’s kiss
When I fell down
To be swooped in her soft arms
Murmuring sweet nothings.
It did not dim the pain
But I felt better.
My story is like the mother’s kiss
The pain of being lonesome
Will become bearable.
We feel trapped at home
Even more so when we step out
The streets where the rules are flouted
Spitting, chatting, huddling close without masks
My story is like the feeling
In a crowd of strangers
You spotted someone
A welcome sense of recognition
It could be the woman who irons your clothes
Or the frisky boy who delivers paav and eggs
My story will make you feel close
In times
When we can neither touch nor reach
Connected only by invisible strands
No longer like strangers on the street.
That’s my story
So much like yours!
Photo from the Internet
Feature picture is from dreamstime.com
