Confessions of a dead girl 4

4. My name

Chhavi.
An image. A shadow with a shape. What happens when the screen is broken? Torn down? The image splits, it is stretched apart, it is pulled, partially on the jagged edges of the screen and on the surface of whatever was behind the screen. It is never the same. But then, torn is also an existence for it. For what was was it even when it 'existed'? It wasn't even true then. Always virtual, never tangible. Like wind or air or thoughts, except that it didn't matter like they did. Changing color with the screen, even the image with the structure of whatever it was projected on.  All it's existence was because of, and dependent on other things.

And when it's gone, another image replaces it. Is it even missed?


to be continued...