They Flickered.

Sakshi Singh
2 min readNov 8, 2021

It was 7 am, a chilly December morning-

When he stood in the Principal’s office

And told her about the hushed whispers,

the side glances, the slaps, the sneers

and the punches behind the football posts during recess,

She put her cup of tea down and said, “Just be normal, it will all stop”

She blamed the western shows, blamed youth activism, blamed the internet

Blamed him, She blamed him for expressing himself,

She blamed him for his rainbow sneakers and his nail polish,

She blamed him for making everyone uncomfortable,

She asked him why he had to be so abnormal,

He had stormed off in his school shirt

Every adult has an excuse, no one ever helps.

What’s the point anymore?

It was 8 pm, a quiet December night,

the second hand ticking in sync with his shaking legs.

The principal told him that his son left the school at 6 pm, it’s a 15-minute jog at max.

Where is he?

His hands trembled as he called the number one last time — “The person you are calling is not answeri-”

He slams the phone in frustration, tears welling through his eyes, as he slid down the wall, head in his hands.

“Where are you, baby? Tell me so that I can fetch you, and then you can tell me everything, I promise. Appa will make everything alright.”

He used to say that to him as a child, and he always used to smile showing off his white teeth.

When his son told him that he was gay, he laughed.

“No you’re not,” he told his son and signed him up for football practice.

They never spoke about it again, what was there to say?

It is 11 pm when the city is going to sleep and the phone rings,

He jumps from the lumpy sofa,

Trembling hands, quivering lips, and shaking legs answer the call

A h-hospital? The words barely make it out of his quivering lips

His heart leaps out of his chest as he climbs the staircase

The day his son was born he promised to cherish him.

To keep him safe from harm and to love him.

“He is stable.” At those words, he collapses onto a metallic plastic chair

Sobbing in an entangled mess of soiled shirts and carry bags

Hope was all he needed then, He wanted to hope for a chance
A chance to fulfill the promise that never should have been broken in the first place

He looked up at the buzzing hospital lights.

Just like little sparks of thunder after a heavy rain
They Flickered.

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Sakshi Singh

your average teenager who seeks validation from random strangers. I'll be posting a variety of written content, articles, poems, short stories, proses etc etc