Breath

Every time I breathe I feel I am alive,

Every time I take that next breath,

I feel I’ve survived.

This is not easy.

Not half as cinematic as it looks onscreen.

Ask me.

Till yesterday, I thought it was silly to talk about this exercise of passing air through my nostrils,

Then it happened.

I found a heavy knot inside my chest, tucked deep inside me, an immobile object. 

I was infuriated in the beginning.

How dare it force me to use my mouth to pass air?

How dare my nostrils refuse to co-operate?

This is my body, I pass orders.

Not some stupid, rebellious, powerful, invisible knot seated comfortably above my stomach.

I fought the whole night.

Sacrificing sleep, sweet sleep.

Refused to take external ammunition to fight it.

Three nights spent in an agonizing fight.

Need external ammunition now.

All this for a breath!

All this to breathe in and out without a fight,

With the enemy in my chest.