The countless audacious whispers that quivered the lips and collapsed oblivious,
Speak of the thousands of midnight rantings to your beauty
They cry out my fears, my anxiety
The latent desires that I've hidden forever in my bosom
But, yes, it's been too long now.
I can feel the tears brimming up in my eyes,
Sloshing and jostling as i try to suppress them, time and again.
You and I were probably set on two different roads,
that met at a juncture, once in a while
Those red letter days...
And now meant to part again, once again...
Most people that I have met in life have found my name intriguing, enigmatic or colloquially what you call a 'jaw-breaker'. Therefore, much to my dissent, my name got conveniently shortened to 'Shreya' or 'Shrey'. It irked me majorly because 'Shreya' is also a different name within the Bengali culture. It felt like an imposition of a person or personality that I were not. Over a period of time overstimulation forced me to accept the fait accompli until, a friend started using the word 'Shree' to address me affectionately. Intuitively, effortlessly and organically I felt like my personality fell in perfect symphony with being called 'Shree', so much so that, subconsciously, I also had started to address myself as 'Shree' soon afterwards. Needless to say, the shift in cultural paradigm as I immigrated from India to USA was vast and diverse. Surprisingly however, it made me cling on desperately to the vestiges of my roots and identi...
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