Saturday, December 7, 2013

May We Be Forgiven

Jodha Bai's Palace, Fatehpur Sikri, Uttar Pradesh, India

I was only looking for some rest and to lie peacefully in my bed. The wound, which I had believed to be healed, remembered you and painfully bled. I have lost my sleep, but not my dreams. My eyes have dried. But, I feel the subtle warmth of your salty streams. I would have tried running away. But, no one has ever reached anywhere by doing that. So, I stay. But not too close. Not too far away. I sit and stare and think about things that I do not want to think about. Silence keeps me sane. Where I could possibly lead you where you have never been before? I ask. Better than now? Purer than present? No one knows. But, I like the idea of finding our answers together.

Sometimes self-doubt is the surest form of inner voice. The heart which has nothing to hide also has nothing to reveal. Zindagi meri bhi aasan nai. Kaante mujhe bhi chubhte hain. Paon kaampte hai kabhi kabhi, Hum phir bhi sir utha kar chalte hain. Sometimes I wonder why I wrote these words. I was afraid of being heartbroken. So, I wrote a story about being heartbroken. I may become a ruin before I finish this. But, a ruin remembers everything it should have forgotten. And sometimes, what we wish to forget is the only thing worth remembering. A ruin remains silent because stories behind hidden scars should always remain hidden.

Trying we both are, in our own separate ways.
The moments sometimes freeze, but mostly it sways.
We both are a little afraid of what we would see.
And, we both keep our love, locked away in different bays.

The shadows are coming closer and its getting dark. I stand in the shadows and observe the light play their games. And I wish. I wish to come closer to protect our flickering flames. I wish to kiss you on the cheek. Only that can enlighten the atmosphere so bleak. I believe. Despite the utter darkness which surrounds us at times, we will find the light. Because that light is us.

A simple wish, which may yet come true.
Fragile we are, like the morning dew.
Crushed we may feel, but we will have our leap.
One promise we broke, but, we got plenty to keep.

P.S - 1. Opening four lines from the song "Mad world' by Gary Jules
      2. If You did go to the trouble of opening the link for the song, listen to the lyrics at 1:34 min into the song. Thank You in advance.
        3. Title Taken from the book of the same name by A. M. Homes.
                                                                                              - HAUSLE BULAND