Title: The Ghosts I Carry Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker stands quietly, as if speaking to someone unseen or to themselves in a mirror. Their voice begins fragile, trembling, then strengthens as they confront the memory.)
Monologue:
I have carried it for so long—
the weight, the echo, the quiet whisper that never leaves.
I pretended it wasn't there.
I told myself it would fade.
I told myself I was strong enough to ignore it.
But it doesn't fade.
It waits.
It reminds me of everything I tried to forget.
(Pauses, voice trembling.)
I am tired of being afraid…
afraid of the shadow it casts over everything I do.
Afraid that if I face it, I will crumble.
Afraid that the world will finally see the cracks I have hidden
behind smiles, behind ordinary days.
(Voice rising with quiet defiance.)
But I am done hiding.
I am done letting the past decide who I am today.
It shaped me, yes…
it hurt me, yes…
but it does not own me.
I will not let it define every thought, every breath, every heartbeat.
(Softens, reflective.)
I cannot erase it.
I cannot undo what happened.
But I can acknowledge it.
I can name it.
I can face it without letting it destroy me.
And in that, perhaps…
perhaps I find the first glimpse of freedom.
(The speaker exhales slowly, standing taller, a quiet strength settling in their posture.)
I will carry the scars.
But I will walk forward.
And for the first time, I will carry myself
without fear of the past.