Time teased them, destiny chased with a wild vigour for answers.īut who cared, when all that mattered was.the power of freezing time. įingers entwined, thoughts aligned, oh! at times not so aligned, but drenched in the essence of randomness.the beauty of dreams realized itself through that walk. The laughter echoed into the woods and pearls of sweet nothings waved into the foreverness. Like memories tugging on to them like a little kid, like moments dripping down the timeless togetherness, like words melting into the thin air with fond blushes. So well, they walked.and walked.and walked. you adjust according to your convenience.at times let time and life take over than you taking over it. Things take a backseat, life takes a back-seat.people change. Yeah, you can give a new name to this rejection. Your first best friend at school, when you didnt even know what a best friend meant.who helped you learn your concepts by-heart by reading them aloud again and again, pestered her mother to pack your favourite food for lunch, voted for you as the class prefect! Today,years after, one scrap on orkut might just bring in memories of you and her, but what I find sad is how mute feelings can become with time which once screamed with promises of eternal bliss. It gets so difficult to preserve all the memories that you had once vouched for.
Just like you need to sell off old newspapers.the same newspaper that had helped you explore the most surprising facts around the world.articles that had prompted you to discuss and debate and gift you the world in mere 2 to three bucks. With time, you keep some reject few.why?because you can't keep them all na. Those envelopes or gift wraps you had lovingly unravelled to find your gift by a special or not so special one, tucked the torn pieces safe into your shelf, looked at them time and again to relive the same warmth. But you never know, the future might see you indifferently get rid of the same, suppressing few wishes deep down, mechanically surrendering to situations or the idea of "moving on with times".
There are times when you know you wouldn't let go of something. I thought I would sit at peace and go through them, absorb each element, understand and preserve each bit. These rejected ones were so precious few weeks ago. What point am I trying to make here? Nothing just an observation and attempt at understanding this typical behaviour. Rejection becomes such an easy job when time has passed. neatly put back the selected ones and rejected others. I rummaged through the pile of files, folders, A4 sheets, colour prints, checklists. It's sad how easy it becomes to discard things once they are old and irrelevant to the present. and again… asking for something that was so brutally cruely declared as no more. While the other set of siamese palms clenched itself and opened again. The world lies at those feet…that went so cold…lied at those still clenched palms that once desperately tried escaping the fate of nothingness… Memories fly back to the moment of that stil nothing lying on the ground…that flooded the air with millions of screams… when even that stillness felt like a presence…it felt…it whispered…of all that could have been… search for the gone.craving one glimpse.even if its false….even if its not meant…because it is so meant deep insde…so wanted…so precious… When eyes deliberately sink into nightmarish sounds in midway slumber and search for the nothing. When there is no court left to give a verdict…help the helplessness… When presence is but a memory….when memories but just memories… normalcy fails…Įyes left with a lifetime of longing expression.speaking a language of eternal void…
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Tears finally learnt how to trickle down silently from the corner of the eye…making no noise…so hushed.no one would know… when the heart can contain no more…numbed but somewhere deeply slit.wounds bleed indeed.and they bleed so hard. Returned behind more of absolute eternal emptiness Prayers…that were desparate…full of hopes…sacred.innocent…strong …bold…ambitious…
and again… asking for something that was a part of nothing… thin air hanging above her body while she pretended to sleep that night, she tried snatching that something so desperately, only to find her hands empty…as if the still air in the room reacted back in reflex, with a soft push….whispering a promise of nothingess… The night, when the palms clenched itself and opened again. And then sometimes the silence screams at you, darkness screams at you, memories scream at you piercing through these screams wishes scream back at you… wistful.wistful wishes…
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