I am on the boulevard of broken dreams.
The night sky, the faraway glittering lights, the occasional puffs of the killing white stick, the distant barks of a street dog, the skyscrapers, the Meg Ryan smiling from my lappy, a trance on late night [V] . Everything, literally everything is hugged by your thoughts and memories.
All the stars have fallen from the skies. Fallen, disgraced, speculations galore. Even the skies are quantified these days, even they have borders. Digitized – artificial – they hardly evolve anymore emotions, they hardly make you feel fly high.
It has been so many days that I didn’t call you angel eyes…
It has been so many days that came to work for that sunshine smile of yours…
It has been so many days that I didn’t long for the darkness of your kohl eyes!
“It’s hard to hold a candle in the cold November rains.”
Rains! Soothing, drops, nostalgia, my first love, my solitude and solace, my tears from heaven, the freedom to roam out of school books, the watery eyes, my bread and butter for life. Everything, literally everything is hugged by your thoughts and the words.
All the waves have died from the seas. They won’t be the same for me ever again. The seas will hardly bring back the happiness I gave away, that evening. The thin line where the two blues merge – the seas and the skies will won’t glitter for me as the sunshine dwells in that neverland. They won’t evolve anymore poetry.
It has been so many days that I didn’t make you stop breathing…
It has been so many days that I didn’t open the scribbled papers…
It has been so many days that you made me feel my tears haven’t dried up yet!
“Kuch is tarah teri palkein meri palkon se mila de.”
Angel eyes, dream peddler, the soft whispers, the psychic seductions, the kiss that can bear infinite amount of pains in an inexhaustible space of time, the “home” I built for you with the red sands of Kovalam. Everything, almost everything is hugged by your thoughts and small dreams.
All the love has faded, shattered by time. Time is too unreal an entity to be pursued, to be given a thought to. It’s too much like the seas, the pendulum swings, as life twists, turns, curls and curves for me.
The crimson tide always gave me the slip. They won’t let me change even if I wanted to. They will kill me every time I wanted to live. After all my life is not only about “my” life. Some decisions.
It has been so many days that I didn’t smell your tears…
It has been so many days that I didn’t dream for you…
It has been so many days that I have been high on life!
Distance is such a beautiful thing isn’t it? You told me once, but I didn’t realize the hidden meaning in it. Now I feel it, as it sears through every vein of mine. Live sweetheart, live. Live without me.