Untitled | Harsha Gupta

THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.

Within the darkness of the vast expanding universe somewhere I reside,

Miniscule I am when compared to the ever expanding space.

I think about the things I want to do,

Of what I could be.

Wrapped around the chains of the institution we call society,

That teaches us how to live with propriety?

Confused, unconvinced, anxious and restless,

I put on my make-up while I feel helpless.

Walked about the crowded street,

And Different Faces I did greet.

Phone rings and to a party I was invited,

Within me the desire to please ignited.

The best possible face I painted,

A new me for a new gathering I created.

My interests, thoughts, and ideologies were different,

But to be just another sheep in the flock was my interest.

Interest then conflicted with my beliefs,

Realizing I was a black sheep, I grieved.

In front of a mirror I stood,

Removed the mask to see what I once could.

It was like a bedlam inside my head,

"How does it feel to lose it all?" The Fallen Angels said.

Hastily I looked through it all to find the 'Right face'.

Distraught I was upon this fall from grace.

"Is it all worth it? Raising a Pandemonium in my head for all this? " I wondered.

Sitting on the cold bathroom floor, with my head on my knees, about these questions I pondered.

An epiphany of sorts I had,

"Being different isn't all that bad".

Why should one mould oneself just to fit in?

Why should one walk along the path and follow the beliefs embossed within?

Why can't one find the courage to stand out?

To accept that one is different; isn't that all 'this is your life' about?

Why are we so afraid to accept our individuality?

Are we just meant to be living with the herd mentality?

A knock on the door I heard,

"7 o'clock at the club" Told me a little bird.

Overflowing with happiness I dolled-up,

All my thoughts I wound up.

"Thinking can really mess up your head", I said to myself.

I got out the door after putting a book back on the bookshelf.

Within the darkness of the vast expanding universe somewhere I reside,

Miniscule I am when compared to the ever expanding space.