The Road I Walk Poem by Laya Bajpai

I do not call it a fight,
because I was never at war with my life.
I call it a road I chose to travel,
sometimes rough with stones,
sometimes smooth like soft grass under my feet.

I have cried when days grew heavy,
and laughed when joy knocked at my door.
Both belong to me,
both shape me in ways I cannot deny.
Why must I erase the sorrow
when it has taught me to value the smile?

I do not stand here flawless,
nor do I wish to.
Perfection is not my dream.
Wholeness is.
And I feel whole
when I own every stumble,
every rising again.

I am not ashamed of my moods,
my doubts, my changing tides.
They remind me I am alive,
capable of feeling the world
in all its shades.
This, to me, is no struggle—
It is my journey,
And I have learnt to enjoy the walk.