3 Min Read


Sharika Sabha

She confessed.

She confessed to a crime.

Which she would never regret 

Doing over and over again.


She confessed.

She confessed to following him.

His every stance, gesture, word

When she tries to be around him.

Just like an experienced assassin

Who incessantly follows

Every step of his prey

Before executing him.


She confessed.

She confessed to acting like a friend.

A friend, who is indifferent 

To his problems.

But she never noticed that

Her deepest concerns were hidden

Under every “Pera nai, chill”, 

Under every nonchalant shrug.


She confessed.

She confessed to lying blatantly 

To herself.

Lying how she likes 

His humourless jokes, tactless puns 

Or the weird memes

Or the wholesome photos he shared

(Which never released 

Any drop of serotonin)

Just because they are friends.


She confessed.

She confessed to deceiving herself.

How seeing him beaming

Generated warmth inside her body.

How hearing his voice

Made her day.

How seeing him defending women’s rights

Made her proud.

She thought it was just because 

They are good friends.


She confessed.

She confessed to a crime

To herself, knowing that

He will never believe or accept it.

He will feel betrayed, wounded,

Disrespected because of her words.

Her actions will instigate hatred.


She confessed.

She confessed

Her love for him to herself.

The proof of which is buried

Deep inside her heart.

And that’s the last place

He would think of searching.


She confessed.

She confessed to a crime

Which she would love to do

Over and over again.

Even if it leaves bruises and scars.

Even if it makes her heart bleed.

Even if it stains her shirt from teardrops.

She will do it again.

She will fall in love.

But she won’t let him know.


Sharika Sabha is tired of convincing people that Economics doesn’t teach you how to make money. She loves human babies, books, and submitting assignments a few minutes before the deadline. She can be reached at [email protected]


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