Between Almost and Irreversible
By Aardhra Chandran

 

The signal hesitates—
it does not change at once,
a thin color of hesitation
hovering between permission and refusal.

 

Engines soften.
No one trusts momentum.

For a breath
the intersection belongs
to uncertainty.

 

I have stood here before,
in that narrow place
between almost
and irreversible.

 

Nothing dramatic occurs.
The light turns.

 

Cars inherit direction
as if it had always been theirs.

The yellow vanishes—
as if it knew
we were waiting
to surrender or move on,
leaving only the space we occupy.

 

 

The Quiet Rebel

 

In the last row,
a chair leans slightly—
alone by choice,
refusing arrangement.

 

Dust gathers there
like a quiet claim.

 

I choose it once
to test whether distance
can feel deliberate.

 

The room continues speaking.
Names are written.
Pages turn.

 

When I rise,
the wood holds warmth
a moment longer
than expected.

 

By morning,
it will look unoccupied—
but not unnoticed,
as if it remembered
every choice made.

 

 

Aardhra Chandran from Kerala, India write poetry that reflects on nature and the human experience, highlighting the quiet moments that often go unnoticed.