– Harry Sangtam
My heart beats with an unusual beat,
It has a hint of nervousness.
For I saw, for the first time,
A small, fragile, innocent being.
She,
A sleepy head alone –
I could not hold her.
From afar, I saw her
In the arms of her nurse.
I saw her resting in the comfort
Of a sweet lullaby
Sung to her.
The warm air
Made everyone’s gaze
Fill with the peace of joy.
Her small hands –
The size of my thumb –
Yet they felt so majestic.
Her little frown
And those angelic eyes
Were something unexplainable,
Yet so comforting.
It was as if happiness
Had taken form,
As if love
Had found a voice.
She – so innocent,
Bound by none;
No sorrow,
No pain of life.
She was just
A little soul
Who found her voice,
And now is just
Seeing the world –
A world that shines
With her gaze.
Now,
Time has mounted its wheel,
And gently grows
This beautiful soul.
It reminds me
That this moment
Will eventually pass,
And never again
Be lived
In all of reality.
I hear her voice
Trying to be heard.
Her presence alone
Now paints my life
With colour –
A life
That once was fading.
The days of silence
Now echo
With giggles –
Where once
There was only emptiness.
And her eyes now shine –
Not with sleep,
But with curiosity and light,
As if she sees beauty
Where others see
Only the ordinary.
Each day,
Each week,
Each fleeting moment,
She grows,
She changes,
She becomes.
And though time is relentless,
Though each step
Takes her further
From where she once began –
It cannot steal
The joy
She leaves behind.
And my world –
It is not ready
For the day
She fully takes
Her first steps.
And in that moment,
My heart
Will beat
With joy and sadness.
But still,
I will see her
With the same fondness
As I saw her then.
And as I held my breath
That very first time –
I will walk her
Down the path of life,
Knowing something beautiful
Has just begun.
CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT
Adiba Sangtam, who writes under the name Harry Sangtam, began writing during high school – experimenting with lyrics, songs, and whatever words came to mind. It wasn’t until higher secondary that he began to see writing in a new light. With greater awareness and a growing sense of self, he started creating his own pieces, using writing as a way to explore his thoughts and identity. He is especially drawn to poetry because it allows him to step into different avenues of life – to feel the emotions of various moments, even those he hasn’t personally lived. For Harry, poetry is a space where empathy and imagination meet, and where he continues to discover new parts of himself.