We’re Alone

(Reading Time: 3 min Approx)

We all come alone in this world

That’s what Sister Zenith used to say

I remember I had an empty photo frame

Where I wanted my family picture to be

Later realised, how funny it is for orphans like me

Yes, I know we all come alone in this world

At least, that’s what Sister Zenith used to say…

Our rooms had little windows

From where I saw them coming.

 

A big red car, a beautiful woman, a bald man

At first, they didn’t look that old.

The day I met them I got a family

Finally, a picture for my photo frame

Leaving for a home on my way

 

I still remember the voice coming from the doorway

“We all come alone in this world”

 That was the last time Sister Zenith said.

My family was small, but I was happy to have them

The woman cooked and the bald man sang

I had a life where I was hardly alone

I felt Sister Zenith was wrong

How can she know what a family feels like?

She has been a nun for her entire life.

I was happy to have more than I asked for

The over-baked cookies, that broken jingle

They were not perfect still they so were mine

“Not alone anymore” I used to scream inside.

One day, the oven stopped all of a sudden

Uncle Jassey said- “It’s out of order, I beg your pardon”

No more cookies still that song still stayed

Until that bald man was seen lying on the floor

The doctor said he might be smiling but his long gone before

There stood me silently, with that song in my heart

I felt that pain; as if my world was apart

I lost nothing when I had none

 

Image Courtesy: Goodnight’s rest

 

 

Then all I had is now long gone.

I took my bag, left a glance, and paved my way

“We all come alone in this world…”

I realised why Sister Zenith used to say.

 

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Written by 

Aritri is currently working as the Content Director of The Creative Post. Aritri Chatterjee is a writer and poet with a keen interest in literature and life. She has done her Bachelor's degree in English Literature from Calcutta University and her Master's degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from the Visva Bharati. She tells her stories being the one in the crowd yet chooses to stand alone. To her, where there is life, there's always literature and where there isn't; that's literature itself.

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