Departure

That was her last kiss on his lips before he leaves for the next six months.

They had been fighting since yesterday night. But all her anger died in a glimpse of the man she loves.

They have been trying to console their weeping hearts over the last three weeks. That is the paradox life has got to offer when it robs a student of literature of any such philosophy to make up her mind for his impending absence.

Their date today was just like one among the others but furtively it were only their hearts which knew it was not. 

She talked incessantly, almost to recompensate their not meeting for the next six months. She eats very less, even lesser today. They reclined to stalk each other’s old pictures and rummage through each other’s facebook accounts to unburden themselves.

Even time seemed to stop for them today so that they could spend more time by each other’s side. But something that failed to stop were the relentless streams of her tears. After sobbing so badly, the tip of her nose simulacrumed that of a reindeer.

She relished how pleasantly it could make them giggle together.

She knew that her tears were enfeebling him. She desperately tried to wear a smile but even her face did not cooperate.

She promised him to eat well but she knew well that she would often end up skipping her meals. She would never give up on her endeavour to put up a smile before the world but only he would know the utter falsity in that smile and the depression her soul would be bogged down in. They knew very well that they would spend sleepless nights and spend some hours talking to each other closely in their dreams.

Reality seized her opportunity to excitingly question, “Kobe meet korbi abar sala?”

Instead her lips were forced by circumstances to utter, “Sabdhane thakish babu.”

She found it much against her will to come out of his encompassing embrace today. She groped for his hand to wrap it around her waist tightly to feel its warmth. She wanted to grab on to him to smell him anew once more.

The cab drove through the busy yet solitary streets of the city where she could figure out two repined souls trying to guilottine reality. She saw the sun mitigating into the horizon when the street lights were lit up with the promise of another night. But those streaks of light seemed to be ebbing away when they failed to illuminate the unhappiness in them.

Their careers will career them into two different countries temporarily. 

They found it very difficult to unclasp their tightly held fingers at the end of the day.

A drop of tear silently ran through her cheek into her breast when her heart yelled, “Tui theke jaa na please” but she whispered, “Taratari amar kache chole ashish shona.” 

❤❤

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I die

Yes, I die. I die with every breath.

I die not out of the disillusionments of love.

I die not out of futile expectations.
I die for those caresses he loves me with.

I die for smile that glitters on his face.

I die for the fragrance of his free-flowing hairs.

I die for his warm embraces.

I die for the strongest shoulder I can cry upon.

I die for those encompassing and transcendental arms.

I die for the tranquility he lets me live in.

I die for his love, everyday.

I die for Him.

That death is easeful.

She’s the soul of discretion

First blog post

 

So perverse are our pent-up feelings, aren’t they?

With the passing of the transient days and nights aren’t we turning too fickle-minded?

Often we tend to obfuscate our own hearts before our minds. But do we really have the time to question ourselves why do we do so?

No matter how much do we claim to fathom the hearts of our soulmates, we are heading off to a day when we will end up in a fiasco. Never can we read the feelings in our bosom. Going through another soul just out of love does not come in modern day dictionaries of life. It is an absurd concept, a concept to which we can never escalate ourselves.

Involving a tone of subjectivity here might not be apt. Irrespective of our acceptance, I can safely say that almost all of us find  young adolescents making a vain show of love under the disguise of modernity. Their affectations have transported them to a new essence of life where they can claim that its their beloved’s love that wakes them up to lovely mornings or lulls them to sleep.

Doesn’t the warm sun exist in their worlds of love?

Doesn’t the bright moon talk to them in solitude?

Standing at this juncture of life where we utterly fail in our process of being unflagging, doesn’t it sound quite paradoxical when the young hearts claim to glow in their lovers’ glow?

Do their words come with a realistic tone when they claim their lovers’ voices to be the only mellifluous tone?

When they pass by the ailing and vagrant mothers of the society with an air of indifference, can it be said that they know what love means?

I can venture to say that I don’t love the way others do. I can even be branded as a social deviant for not keeping in tune with the vogue of the modern day. But I can claim to see the vibrancy of the unfathomable darkness of the night. I can claim to hear the immortal silence of the distant moon above.I can claim that the forlorn cries of my hungry brothers on the streets do not fail to reach out to my ears. I can claim to visualise a myriad of stars smiling at me. I can claim that I don’t make a superficial show of my feelings. I can claim that the hustling wind talks to my soul in solitude. I can claim that love does not have me in thrall. I can claim that I don’t dupe the quintessential serenity of love. I can claim that I don’t let love circumscribe my imaginations. I can claim that I don’t fall out of love with every passing day.I can claim that my love does not procrastinate my encounter with the reality as other’s do.

I flounder while I try to understand what humanity and love mean in today’s world. Maybe they simulacrum transience. Can humanity be attributed to humans any more?

It might also be that my perceptions are gravely wrong.

I am stumbling these days on the streets of life as I am failing to abide by these trends.

But I am happy being a failure. At least I don’t surreptitiously dwell in a world of utter falsity. I happily flout other’s concepts of life. I can cater to the needs of my soul and not to the cliches of the modern day.

 I can disentangle myself from the cobwebs of the world. My heart beats to the music of my existence.