Sitar- A Poem

At 17,

They revealed to me,

“You are going to lose your vision.”

I could not fathom

this precision.

My world shaken

to the core,

I glanced at the Sitar,

kept beside the door.

To play it,

to feel its strum

to my heart,

was only a dubious

desire now.

At 23,

he swore my name

on his mouth,

and thus,

we were bound.

What was a world

sheltered by love

and compassion,

concealed my dwindling

vision.

He held my hand,

as if he held my desire

to play the Sitar.

He played the strums,

while I listened, spellbound.

His voice, a guiding thread.

“Let the music heal what

has been misread.”

With trembling fingers,

I caressed the Sitar strings.

The vibrations echoed deep inside,

and then, I was no longer

caged by my darkness.

-Cheshta