This post is in response to Esther’s Writing Prompt.
This week’s Prompt is Voice.
Voice
Do I remember how I was conceived in my mother’s womb? How I squirmed out of that dark, suffocating, slender passageway to create my own narrative?
But I do remember as a kid if anyone asked me my name I would unnecessarily keep concentrating on my twirling big toe and refrain from replying.
Sis said I was unsmart.
It would take a number of under breath rehearsals to go ask the shopkeeper in the corner of the gully what mother needed.
In contrast, sometimes I would just plunge into unlikely conversations with strangers,”Hey! Aren’t you so and so?” Surprising them as well as my own self.
Many hiccups and downfalls later I learnt to be articulate, at times, to my own detriment. But oh! What peace! I said what I wanted to.
It was too loud sometimes. Too overbearing for others. Too uncomfortable for the Authorities. Too embarrassing to my own self. But there I was. Unstoppable. Incorrigible. Undiplomatic. Too straightforward. Too upfront. Too inconvenient. A misfit.
Now mellowed by age I seek solace in silence. Another kind of voice inside judges me , my mistakes, my wrong doings, my incompetencies, without giving me a single another chance to turn back the clock and find my voice at the opportune moment.
I resign to voicelessness. A wordless bickering that goes on in the mind incessantly I wish to not listen.
The fetal pose.
This damn urgency to Forget and Forgive.
Myself.
@Geetashree
So relatable. In a different time and different place I’ve felt all the same things.
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I am glad my post resonates with you.
How are you keeping?
Hope to have a conversation on this with you.
Regards
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Doing well, thanks. Recovering from a heart procedure.
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Wish you a speedy recovery.
I am also recovering from three major surgeries of the intestine.
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Beautifully expressed, GC.
A voice that crawled, stumbled, roared, and now rests—not in defeat, but in reflection. Not silence, but a quieter kind of thunder. Even the fetal pose holds power—a whisper waiting, not gone. The urge to forget and forgive… not weakness, but courage.
👍👍👍
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Thank you. I don’t know whether the urge to forget and forgive can be deemed as courageous. I guess its washing my hands off the past if it’s possible.
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Sometimes washing your hands is the brave part—especially when the past keeps handing you dirt. 🫱🧼🕊️
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U started using AI images, Good. Apt photo creation. Love this lady’s expression.
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Haa haa! You got it! 😁😁
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😊😊😊
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Sensitive reflections – and an excellent AI illustration
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This is such strong writing. From the heart 💗
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Thank you so much Esther. Your prompt was very creative which prompted me to write ✍️
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Thanks for sharing such a soulful and honest piece, Ma’am! I can relate to your journey of words and silence. I believe that self-acceptance is the soul medicine on this journey. It doesn’t really matter whether or not fits into social and worldly expectations. What matters is that we have learned and grown along the day by embracing our magical imperfections!
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Magical imperfection! What an expression. There is a Japanese word for finding perfection in imperfection. Your comments always give me goosebumps.
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Always a pleasure, Ma’am, and thanks for your kind words too!
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Writing again as not sure my comment got posted … silence is hard, shows our inner strength and courage that we never knew we possessed until the need for it arose. Re forgive n forget . . . .depends on the circumstances, we forgive cos we want to move forward in our own lives and not hold on to a hurtful past . . .forget, not so easy.
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After a long time. I agree with you. Every effort is meaningful and every effort is futile at the same time. But we still push on.
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And thats the best we can do, first and foremost for ourselves and our peace of mind . . . .secondly to ensure our relationships remain in a steady healthy mode . . .ripples on the water, one reaction leads to another. Thank you for acknowledging my comment.
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The story of the beautiful you, Geeta.
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Thank you very much 🙏🙏
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Outspoken and opinionated . . .
👏 👍 👏
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Voice is entitled to that.
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