A poem by Chavi Arora

I look out of the window, aching for the sun’s
only to find clouds of uncertainty floating in
Between my heart and these clouds, there’s a
discomforting resemblance
both in need of letting go of some water to
feel relieved!
Every time I step out of the door
I see noses peeking out of the masks,
blessed to smell the marigolds,
but equally guilty to reminisce the smell of
On some days the world seems colourful,
and nothing less than a tangible kaleidoscope
By the evening, the earth quakes, quite
literally, and shatters all my forlorn hope
But at one point or another,
the clouds will disperse,
and our selfies will be sun-kissed once more
Even marigolds will smell noisome
and we wouldn’t need masks to suffocate us
we’ll have the old air, toxic enough to make us
And this colourful, vibrant world
will once again become black and grey by the
And I am guilty to still desperately wish for
this day
because I’d give anything to touch my world- my kaleidoscope again!

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