Laying on the sofa in a bad posture,
I’m surrounded by women of age and experience.
And the human silence is loud and comforting,
And it’s bright enough to light up my brown irises.
I’m struggling to be there,
As the realms of my own imagination threaten to snatch me away from this reality.
And Anne Frank seems to understand me,
I must read more about her and everyone related to her.
Light snores fill the silence and an older generation taps away at an iPhone;
It’s normal and not, all at once,
And it’s family;
That’s nice to think about.
It’s not magnificent,
All of this meaningless chatter.
I don’t understand most of it;
I’m hardly present anymore.
But the laughter reaches me,
And gives me a quiet relief.
Indian Literature and Poetry | Rtunjya Gujral in her own words “I am eighteen-years-old, residing in New Delhi, India. I have been writing since and following your magazine for a year now, and I would like to share my work through your magazine and I run my own blog – trapthetemper.wordpress.com.”