Kaustav Ghosh
He is closing the door of his heart.
Not with anger.
Not with haste.
He, who has loved too deeply.
He, who bled too quietly.
He, closed for peace.
His hand lingers on the doorknob,
He and his trembling face while doing it.
Not because he wants to lock it forever,
but because leaving it open had let in too much rain.
The kind that settles like dust in an abandoned room.
There are fingerprints on that door.
She and Her everything.
Smudged memories of laughter, of longing, of lips brushing like whispers.
But now… silence.
And so he closes it—gently, like tucking away a photo.
Not to forget her,
but to finally remember himself.
He, who never quit.
He,who lost but never left the ground.
He, who fought till the end.
To feel how special and worthy he is.
To feel who he is.
Time to close the shop-
For the today, and may be…
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