This cage of grief I find myself in has a door. I can see it. It is wide open. It invites me to step outside. Sometimes I am tempted to venture out even though I am not sure what lies outside. May be there is no outside. Maybe the cage is an extension of me. It is there because of me. I have built it with my memories, longing, tears and love. I sit comfortably cocooned in it. It is my natural habitat. Would I rather be elsewhere? It’s restful in here. Leaving it would be a betrayal of myself. Of Saagar. Even if he wouldn’t have wanted it for me.
Every now and then I do metaphorically peep out of the window and enjoy the world of clothes, make-up, hair and such like but it is tiresome. My cage allows me to clearly see the cages that surround others. I am ‘happy’ within these confines. Here I experience deep silence and connectedness with myself. This must be a special kind of freedom. As for grief, it does not end. Not at that door, nor at the end of the Earth. It morphs into various shapes, shades and hues. It can be a beautiful piece of music at one time and the gentle warm sunshine at another. It envelops me wherever I am. I have learnt to smile and shine through it. It is not an adversary. On the contrary, it keeps me strong and grounded. This could be a life-long companion. I welcome it.