Tsundoku

I am a nobody.

A nameless scrap of paper.

My markings are long gone,

Maybe I was a ticket, someday.

Or maybe a restaurant bill.

A receipt.

Or a report.

I must have meant something to someone.

For I continue to live even after my death.

Pressed.

Preserved.

Patient.

I wait for someone to bring me to life again.

I have waited far too long.

I am frail almost like a fossil.

My carrier -

the book -

forgotten at the bottom

of an abandoned pile.

Like me, it lives out its destiny.

Unread.

Useless.

Unhappy.

I am stuck in a story.

Somewhere in the beginning.

Maybe there is a middle.

Or an end.

I can’t dare to dream of an afterlife

Burdened by the weight of towering stacks

A growing guilt from unread pages.

I’d never know anything more.

I am a nobody.

This is the end of my story.

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About the Picture: Bruges is known for its lace. Back in 2019, I had taken this picture during our trip to this quaint Belgian canal town. My mother loves crochet and so I took a phone full of pictures to show her the exquisite work. I found these lace bookmarks really pretty. While I brought back little lady folding fans for the women of the household, I was tempted to bring back a bookmark for my dad. He was a man who tucked train tickets in between his pages. He didn’t need anything fancy. Any scrap of paper was good for him. A fancy bookmark would really be too much for him! But by then Baba had abandoned his reading. He could no longer concentrate on lines on a page. He struggled through his Kindle and was beginning to prefer listening to audiobooks. I realised, a pretty bookmark would not be motivator to finish a book. It would be a reminder of his diminishing attention and Tsundoku! Today, a random prompt brought back the memory of this bookmark. I am so glad I took a photograph of it.

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I am not much of a poet, but I am daring to write just to see how bad can I really be!

This was written in response to a prompt by PoemsIndia and is part of #NaPoWriMo2025