Title: Shadows In The Body, Storms In The Soul Poem by ashok jadhav

(A lone figure sits on a chair under dim light, shoulders slumped, voice quivering with a mix of frustration, vulnerability, and quiet despair.)
"Do you see me? Really see me? Or do you only see the mask I wear, the smile I force, the laughter I let slip past my lips like fragile paper boats in a storm? Because truth be told… I am not well. I am not whole. I am… under the weather. And it is not just a passing cloud, oh no. It is a tempest raging through my veins, a relentless drizzle that seeps into the marrow of my bones, a shadow that clings to my every thought.
Every step feels heavier, every breath a labor, every heartbeat a drum of protest. My mind, once a clear, shining sky, is now gray and tumultuous, with doubts and fears raining down like cold, merciless droplets. And yet, the world around me spins on, unbothered, impatient… demanding I rise, that I function, that I pretend I am not drowning in this invisible storm.
Do you know the weight of feeling under the weather? It is not simply sickness of the body; it is the quiet erosion of spirit. The sunlight outside mocks me, brilliant and warm, while I am trapped in this fog, shivering, trembling, yearning… for even a glimmer of relief. And I cannot ask for more, for sympathy has its limits, and patience is a candle flickering in the wind.
So, I sit here. I endure. I wait. I hope. Because even under the heaviest clouds, even when the storm refuses to lift… I cling to the truth that this too shall pass. And maybe, just maybe, when the sky clears, I will rise not only restored, but reborn… stronger, gentler, wiser, having survived the storm that raged unseen within me.
Yes… today, I am under the weather. But tomorrow… tomorrow, I will be the sun."