Moni

03/01/2026

Once, we too had—
a few light-soaked moments,
the gentle touch of love.

Today, at the mercy of time’s cruelty,
they lie strung across the pages of memory
like dried garlands—
touch them, and thorns pierce the skin.

Wherever they may be,
in whosever arms they find shelter—
may they be well.

© Aloka Chakraborty — All Rights Reserved

30/10/2025

☕ Two broken people, under one roof

– Part 3
✍️ Written by Aloka Chakraborty

We were both carrying things we never said out loud.
Unhealed wounds.
Family shadows.
The fear of money.
The uncertainty of careers.

And yet, we tried.

He would bring me my favourite tea leaves.
And I would fold his shirts —
even if he never noticed.

We didn’t fight over big things.
We fought when he forgot that I had cried.
We fought when I couldn’t understand why he was so silent.

And in the middle of all that, I would still ask —
“When will we get married?”

And he would say —
“Later.”

And I wouldn’t ask again.
Because I trusted his voice —
more than his actions.

22/10/2025

21/10/2025