Shooting Stars

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05.03.21

Dear R,

Like shooting stars,

They plummet from the skies,

Till it’s all over.

 

I just made it up. I was thinking of myself and you and maybe of the pain shooting through my legs, stomach, my arms, hands, chest and brain. Reminded me of shooting stars. Remember the last time, we saw shooting stars from your roof?

Suddenly, it feels so strange – like each and every part of my body is dying to touch one another. My own body feels alien to me. As does my life.

As if I no more belong to myself.

Like all other times, this time too, the fridge looks bleak. Not even a piece of godforsaken bread. The desert-coloured stickers popping off the handle and the scratches looking like abracadabra on the refrigerator door – it’s a surprise I didn’t notice them before.

Strange, huh? How you think you can fill up that enormous void within yourself with loads of food and tons of chocolate! How it seems as if the darkness will melt away, with the chocolate melting on your tongue! But I let myself be deceived and munch cadburies. Sometimes, deception is bliss. Isn’t it?

It’s one of those days, when deception seems bliss and death looks livelier than life. Atleast better than smashing things, punching on the wall till you bleed, hurting yourself and screaming the hell out.

 

You watch in silence as the world falls to pieces and piles of stinking garbage squander hope. You collect the pieces but they never fit together like you thought they would. You collect them and ruin them over and over again. Till you are all but broken and miserable.

You try to find dew drops that melt into the air, silence that speaks millions, ruins and crumbles that you can stash with care. You try to find azure sand, rivers with no ripples, oceans that don’t know tsunami and you find…. You find an endless echo of emptiness.

Yours ever,

S




08.03.21

Dear R,

Seething in pain, they

Laugh over my eyes till

The light goes out.

 

It’s Monday morning and nothing has changed.

I had been standing at the bus-stop all night. I never realized I had been laughing until they told me. I didn’t feel anything. All I felt was that innate desire to soak in the rain and laugh, like I never had.

It had been raining, yes! Oh my, a torrential rain it was! I have never seen anything so bubbling with life, so innocent and … shockingly ingenuous!

Our city bursts with riots of krishnachura at this time of the year. Scarlet drops of dew frolicking all over. The roads are silvery and the sky speaks of ecstasy.

April is coming. The first showers of April smells like soil and grass. I hope it makes me cry. I hope it persuades me to stop this idiotic laughter and sleep with my molten silver. I will cry and cry till I shed my shell and take a new shape. I will cry all night and curl on the soil like a new-born baby in sleep. With an obscure smile. Like the melting sky that rejoice homecoming.

Waiting for the rains. Just as I have been waiting for your letters to reach my port for millions of years.

I promise I won’t lose hope… because that’s what keeps the scarlet waves splashing and the dew drops melting.

I promise.

Yours ever,

S


Image Courtesy: Google Images

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