First it poured down the bed sheets. Then it followed the boundaries made by those mosaic tiles. After that it crept into the lobby, down the stairs, along side the love songs. Finally, walked itself out of the house, to the streets, to where its heart was!
It did not feel like he had lost something or he had abandoned someone. It felt as if he was waiting for the words to etch into his memory so he could do away with their physical presence... as if he spent each day looking into its eyes, answering million questions, in a language completely alien to it; in words which isolated it from him! His laugh disgusted it. The way he undressed, the way he cooked, the way he cleaned his car... all of this made it hate him. He was not a stranger anymore. And this killed it.
He waited and watched; not moving a limb, not even twitching a muscle, he sat on the edge of the same bed sheets. Crumbled, wrinkled, dry dreams. It left him. He left him. The radio played Sinatra. Strangers in the night, exchanging glances.
It was She.
***
-x-
It did not feel like he had lost something or he had abandoned someone. It felt as if he was waiting for the words to etch into his memory so he could do away with their physical presence... as if he spent each day looking into its eyes, answering million questions, in a language completely alien to it; in words which isolated it from him! His laugh disgusted it. The way he undressed, the way he cooked, the way he cleaned his car... all of this made it hate him. He was not a stranger anymore. And this killed it.
He waited and watched; not moving a limb, not even twitching a muscle, he sat on the edge of the same bed sheets. Crumbled, wrinkled, dry dreams. It left him. He left him. The radio played Sinatra. Strangers in the night, exchanging glances.
It was She.
***
-x-
5 comments:
I have come back to this post of yours for the third time. Trying to comment something meaningful, and then usually being left with nothing to say. :)
"It did not feel like he had lost something or he had abandoned someone. It felt as if he was waiting for the words to etch into his memory so he could do away with their physical presence."
This line, how I could live this way.
:)
I had similar feelings while writing this. Straight from the heart!
Amazing tha ye to Shruti!!! Loved what you wrote!
Somehow the story of one man is the story of whole humanity. what amazes me is that coincidentally, a lot of people around are on the same boat as what you have written. does the mind tend to see/read/observe things that it can relate to? or is this world actually full of people misfit for each other.
Hello Hello!! Long time no see!?
I'm glad you liked it. And you know we all have been listening to this one statement that everyone is different because their situations are different. I don't agree. Look at all of us! We are all stuck in the same shit, more or less. All of it boils down to the few basic requirements!
We're all misfits and outcasts but that's the beauty of it all. One cannot remain an outcast for long. There's always another one to replace you... to take your place. Change is inevitable, nahi? :)
Yessum, true are your words. I guess that's how it's also written in gita, life is a loop until you don't find nirvana.
And change, the only constant in the world..
I hope for better days. I hope the pieces fit together soon. times they are a-changin'
Amen :)
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