I once had a recurring dream
standing on the ledge.
Arms outstretched
as if catching air.
In between breaths,
a moment when the wind
pauses passing by
enveloped by timelessness.
Treading a narrow path,
That dot joining
the two drops of infinity.
Standing on the edge
Arms outstretched
I enclose my fingers
catching air.

I once had a recurring dream
I was drowning,
the water
swallowing me whole
as I struggled to
Grabbing the waves in between
my fingers like a twig
but slipping away into

I once had a recurring dream
of walking through a tunnel
with no doorway
in sight.
Just staggering through
a vast barren hallway,
my footsteps echoing
until the sound
blended in like light.

I once had a recurring dream
of banging on closed doors,
desperately attempting to escape
what felt like a cage.
But the cage was me
and I didn’t know
the passcode or the
way out
or in.

I once had a recurring dream
of wishing to be lost,
forgotten into eternity
but my hands
my eyes
my being
kept searching for
a reason
to find me.

I once heard what felt like
someone had looked into
my dreams and responded,
floating a twig on the
turbulent waters
lighting up a doorway
through the tunnel
and a key to the cage that
called me.

They told me,
let’s make a doorway through
your mind.
I found you,
you found me.
I can hear you
I can see you.
They told me
at the end of despair
let you
be the reason
at the edge of a cliff
I extended my little finger
entwined with theirs.
You found me
at the end of my despair,
I found me.

Meenakshi Khemka is a doctor and writer from Kolkata.

Feature image:  Kenny Eliason / Unsplash