Sunday, April 29, 2012

That tear will not be shed now.


Scrolling down the names in my phone still takes a second more to get past yours. There are still pictures you've sent me, tucked aside carefully, not seen in quite some time now. There are still songs I cannot listen to; those you've made me listen to, those we've shared so fondly. And each of these has unforgettable memories - some filled with laughter and silence, others filled with words that never left the comfort of our lips and yet others we've made without ever realising they would be so profound. Yes, I could someday erase these things, these things that mean no more to you than mere objects of a broken dream to leave aside; to leave behind.  

It was a barter from a cold perspective, a very fair barter indeed. You learnt to be yourself, undisguised, unafraid, closer than ever with someone and taught me to accept someone unconditionally. I made us stay apart for my own fears, for my own follies, all the while restraining myself and you from running toward the other. And yes, in the end you showed me how to move on. So you don't owe me anything; no apology, no consolation and no explanation.

The only soothing thought that raises its head above the turmoil, is that of standing on top of a hill, with no moon to pierce the clear, dark sky and break the black darkness around, breathing in the cool, crisp air and calmly staring into the specks of lights of the distant city below...
Opening tightly clenched fists to feel the cool draft on the palms.
Exhaling with every breath, all that is you within me.
Staring with a tear held back, knowing that one of those far away specs is you, innocently drifting into the oblivion in his arms tonight.
That tear will not be shed now.

Monday, April 2, 2012

The Canvas

Tumbling thoughts, blurry images, deafening silence
Breaking it all, the ruffling of your hair
And the sweet scent that whirls around
Can't remember - 'twas the wild meadow
Or the fragrance you wear...

Surreal your touch; a petal on a lake
Our lips trembling; softly brushing away
Miles apart we are and yet
Can feel the warm breath
Can feel it taken away!

Restless heart; ever so slow
Almost loud, piercing the silence
Almost painful.
Were you ever here, like you said a million times
Did we hold hands, like we said a million times
I cannot tell, if this is for real
Or just my weary mind
Gliding strokes on a canvas...

-abhi