Out of sight, out of mind
Out of dreams
Yet you keep coming back
In between.
Meanwhile, I've never grown up
I like the wooden benches as if they are things to be loved
Time is only present and nothing beyond
You are there, to be loved
And lost
I am there, I don't wish I am not.
Were we affectionate, like we could have been?
But I loved you so, if only
You could have seen. If only, if ever.
Some regrets last forever
Did I promise to name my child after your favourite hero
Did you promise me you'll go wherever I go?
I know we did not,
I never thought we needed to promise
My small mind never looked past the present,
Naïve enough to think we would always be.
That's what little girls think,
That's what big girls dream.
A thousand ghosts look like you
I dream of them, and I don't know how to stop
You have died long ago, it seems
It's not really you, in my dreams
Yet, out of sight, not out of mind
You crop up in between.
Halfway through the sentence I remember it was you
Sweating on a terrible April
Smiling as I spoke freely
It was you that I poured into
It was you I had known to love.
Halfway through my promise to him
I stop, abrupt. He thinks I’m overwhelmed
Just like he is
We kiss to make up for the uninvited gaps
He doesn’t seem to care, at all
I wrap around his life tighter, my words can’t suffice
I try to speak but I keep going back
To April, to the month I can never return to live
To the time I flowered beliefs of everything lukewarm and joy
I wish I could forget your voice
He moves in his sleep, calls my name, so sweet.
Why can’t I whisper back?
My words –they are stuck again
Stubborn and helpless, jumble of sounds
Halfway through my life
I stand shaking
Somebody please let me out.
He throws a ball at me
I let it drop
The birds sing for some time until the leaves turn dark
It's been years, we've been apart
His smile sits on his face
Exactly as it was
When I was in love with him a decade ago.
I've never meant to be anything more
But we still end up here
Under the tree, our bicycles long gone
He's proud of his wife, she's giving him a son
I could show him the letters I wrote
I could show him what he doesn't know
Ah, it was too long ago.
The night sky purples
As I sit with him, our cigarettes lit
He's still dribbling, talking about the friends we've lost
Talking about how I haven't changed almost
And I ask the moon, is this it?
I've lied to my lover but I love him enough
I'm tied to you, who would've broken my heart
Who says it's been years we've stayed apart?
The dead Shiuli tree stands like a grave
Mourning its unborn flowers.
I hated picking them up every morning
From our little backyard soil
During Durga Puja
The air hung heavy with the sweet scent
While ants crawled up my feet
Mosquitoes feasted on my flesh
But once my basket was full
I'd stare at their beauty
The little white flowers
Throbbing with their little saffron hearts
Sang of a time
Calmer and earthy
A time of faith in a goddess
With as many as ten hands
To defeat evil
A celebration danced with
Beats of the dhaak.
Now my hands are full
With questions and silences
I want a basket to hold
To rush through the new Puja magazine
To breathe in the fragrant breeze.
The flowers have dropped
Through the emptiness between my fingers
The colours have faded
Before my overworked eyes.
The storm took away the tree one night
And left me stranded
With the dead arms of a broken tree
Wailing for a hug;
Now I'm grieving something
I never thought I cared for.
Mellowing in memories of the past
I shut my eyes of today
I hope for nothing more.
On some days, I close my eyes- And it becomes a summer evening. I laugh and smile like only children can afford to, Fresh green grass tickles my tiny bare feet. I sit on the swing, my eyes steadfast on the golden sky Gearing up to reach as high as I can To outdo my brother Who got bored of swinging And is now playing football in the other half of the park. The evening smells like dirt, Sounds like mosquitoes, And feels like a breeze. As the sky turns into ink, Birds begin to hurry like pedestrians in a busy city, Returning to their nests; And the two of us return home To watch some cartoons, Have some snacks, And fight over both.
On some days, I close my eyes- And I’m in a classroom Blue walls, blue desks, grey floor and a blackboard A trail of words leaving the teacher’s lips And going straight out of the window like unruly toddlers crawling too fast; Every head is either dozing off or buzzing with mischief. A girl secretly holds her boyfriend’s hands under the desk And everyone within a three meter radius Throws them a knowing smirk. Five minutes till recess- becomes a reason enough to be stupidly happy Although my friends and I have only been playing games, Cracking jokes, and doodling all over The precious last pages of the notebook. The long-awaited bell rings loud and clear, Followed by an epidemic of smile and relief.
On some days, I close my eyes- And I don’t want to open them again. Everyone seems out of reach Every situation, out of hand. I open my eyes and shut them again To remember the times When the world wasn’t upside down to me When happiness was so real that I could almost touch it When I was enough for myself. Maybe I still am- There’s a breeze outside The birds still return home tweeting goodnight And the bell hasn’t rung yet All I can do is keep scribbling on the last few pages of my notebook And everything will be fine.
mimimusing 