A replacement got replaced.

Your words get entwined in my words; the present and the utterance of those words are separated by a finite number of days I fail to forget. Do my words get entwined in yours too?

Your stories are my stories now; they escape my mouth like a shooting star escapes sight; I’m caught unawares inspite of being aware. Do you remember my stories?

There were only these two questions whose answers I searched like Santiago searched for his treasure. Searching turned into beseeching.  And then, just like that, I gave up on the search. I knew there were no questions; no answers.

I knew that the axe of replacement had dropped on me while I was lost in my siege. I knew that “Everyone is replaceable” is true; not according to me but for someone out there, it is true. My words, my stories, my thoughts, my laughter, my idiosyncrasies, found a replacement in your magnificent world.

And maybe this makes me happy. Maybe it is so because we just took a wrong turn. Maybe in this wrong turn we found few sonnets to sing as we tread on the right path. Maybe that’s what it was supposed to be, always.
Thanks for reading 🙂

Malvika Mishra


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