Written by: Anindita Farzana

Disclaimer: The following composition is replete with elliptical constructions and grammatical errors. Some were intentional.


The ominous three spaced periods
The brief, awkward pause followed by an obvious lie
How she trails off into silence and leaves me in suspense


Verbose thoughts compressed to something laconic and sensible
Ellipsis and so forth!
“Here I am mentioning the five components you vaguely recognize, now figured out the rest!”

Ellipsis, the trusted companion of a sentence that can’t decide whether it did or didn’t mean “it”
Omitting my likes and umms and parentheticals to hide the fact that I am perpetually clueless

Ellipsis, my parents’ comprehensive explanation to why learning an instrument equates to being a class-
A addict

“You know … ?”
NO. No, I do not know
And I have never known
And I never will know If people keep trying to communicate with blank spaces instead of words
I will never know “I don’t want that.”
That’s a compendious sentence! Bravo! I now know what you don’t want.
“…” Not a compendious sentence.

Ellipsis; The three malicious dots replacing everything I desperately need to tell her
“I …”
“Nothing. Bye.”

Ellipses ; The exclusion of the possessive “my” when referring to the limbs attached to a body that carries

whatever it is that I am
Because I know now that nothing can ever truly be mine.

Maybe the rest of the world is amply insightful but I find this maddening
I apologize, Universe, if my lack of acumen disappoints you
If you were expecting me to be as astute as the rest of them
I am no cryptographer
I do not want my life to be a poem
No more metaphors, symbols or poignant analogies
Please, Universe
My brain cells have as poor a work ethic as I do
Give me concise answers, absolute truths
Instead of ambiguous holy verses
Three dots in the absence of words DO impede my ability to understand.
Don’t mimic Robert Frost
Let war be war, not a possessed, snarling buzz saw

They say that failure’s been ensured by my inability to prioritize
Maybe they’re right
I could only pay attention to the teacher’s hair in literature class
When asked to explain what “daffodils” represented,
There they were again
Pestilent ellipsis!

I’d still rather write a monograph on her ringlets
than explicate my thoughts on Carpe Diem.
What if the day escapes my grasp?
What if some lives just
aren’t meant to be lived to the fullest?
What if some lives just

Tell me, Universe, can I tell her the truth without getting punched in the face?
Why am I so fond of the bitterness In people, thoughts and beverages?
Why can’t I ever eat a turkey sandwich in peace?
Will I die a hero or live long enough to become a flesh-eating protoctist?

I have essayed to discern this.
I’m sick of seeking answers from that horrendously large book.
Make me a study guide
Or the divine equivalent of SparkNotes

Tell me what you want me to want to be.
But no signs, please.
No cracked mirrors or howling winds or dead birds…


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