Confessions

I can take the silence. I can accept the indifference. I can find reasons to smile in our long-lost escapades. I can be good on my own. I could make up false tales in my mind to not like you so much. I can take it all in humour. I could make an effort to be happy. And I could make myself believe, it was short, thus trifle. I can pretend to move past this and simultaneously list numerous reasons why it would do me good. I could truncate you under a grievous mistake or folly on my part. Belittle the very essence of our story. In distant future, may be, may be I could even delude myself to have forgotten you. But, after all of this done on my behalf, if one day you see me and tell me you love me, it would effusively break me apart. It would be the end of all my strength. I would live and die together in that moment. I fail to explain it better.

That kind of Love

Some love stories are not earthbound. Some love stories occur in a different space. You cannot explain them to people or put them in words or contain them in any other manner. You don’t fear its end, nor regret its failure. You just sit and wonder how you ended up experiencing something so starkly beautiful. How it has made everything else around a little less brighter in shade. All the glitter and gloss around you doesn’t affect its chastity. Innocent, Relentless love stories. And then at times you dolefully wince, why me? And you counter react in disbelief, is it even possible? It doesn’t annihilate you, it crumbles you in pieces, bit by bit. Like a deep quagmire sucking you out of breath, but slowly. There is no right or wrong, there is no end to it, there is tenderness, there is pain, there is so much that cannot be written, you know, in that kind of love.

Plea

I will drain myself to the point of no sensitivity. I will juggle, hurdle…turmoil for days. I will put out all that is there in my heart to see. I’ll untangle my pieces from a criss-cross puzzle and lay them apart on a pristine blank page. Won’t leave a centimetre cube space for any intricacies or complicacies. I’ll go with the flow, I’ll be in the moment. Won’t drop a tear. I’ll be lost and still be sane. I’ll smile a million bucks smile. I’ll be happy as every other happy Jack, Jill and Joe. May be I’ll turn into someone totally new, nothing akin to what I was with you. Will you escape my mind then? Given to all my efforts. I am afraid, not.