From Whisper to Silence- you keep moving on.

"And when I shall die, take him and cut him up in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will fall in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun."
-Juliet.


There I was, sitting in a dark corner of my room by the window. It wasn’t twilight yet but I could see a dozen stars dotting the lilac sky. I was listening to the wind blow with a heavy heart. Unlike everyday, when the night sky used to be my major refuge, the scene that day refused to uplift me any more. My emotions were as cold as the iced coffee I was sipping. My favorite drink did not taste the same today. While the strands of my thin hair were blowing across my face, I no more wished to tuck them behind my ears to look behold! I set my gaze beyond the starry night, retrospecting, introspecting and reflecting on life. I felt as the waves of the ocean must feel when clouds have blocked the warmth of the sun.

I had always loved viewing what lies beyond the stars for I believe it holds a place where all dreams are really born. Earlier the time had always flied while I had figured ways to make those dreams all mine, converting them into reality, one by one. However, that night was different. Every moment weighed heavily on me because I realized that what was mine yesterday had turned into a dream today, far from reality. I lost myself, looking for answers that the only ‘man’ I knew wasn’t able to provide me. My bosom bore 100 Qs. if I go back to him again, will he comfort me the same way he did? Will he still call me his ‘baby’?? I often wondered……If you'd asked me why I wanted to know these things, I would have answered, why does a ripe watermelon taste delicious? Why does wood smell smoky when it burns? My heart knows no tongue to express the infinite love it bore .the story like mine should never be told. My world had become as fragile as it was forbidden. Without its mysteries, it can not survive…

I don’t know what I meant to him. I was not his mum or his sister. I was not his buddy or a beloved either. I was not the girl he dated. I was not the mistress he was secretive about. Somewhere I was a bit of all of this, yet more. I was perhaps was ‘the other woman’, flipping roles with a good pace. I wasn’t like a theatre artist in his life but I played a new part every now and then. For one thing, I was his consistent painkiller, a reflecting mirror and an ever accompanying shadow. But those days with him were different. I was more than living a life, it felt like living a dream, playing the part of a princess, albeit short-lived.

Its human nature to feel uplifted when u have someone who is a constant reminder of the fact that there is much more to life than staying alive, breathing in and out. I changed from a girl facing nothing but emptiness to someone with purpose. For me, he was more than an outline to my life, he defined it. Gave to it a new beginning, added to it a deeper meaning, and shared with me, a reason for living. It was then I understood the thing that id overlooked. It was more about loving than to be loved. To be loved was hardly a purpose in life, but to love?! I could see it as a stepping stone to something- a place in the world.

He had psuedoilluminated my dusk n dawn. Occupied in his thoughts through the day and talking to him through the night, life felt celebrated. Every time I hit the bed, I wanted to sleep to dream of him, but sleep never came in thoughts of him... Late at nights, sipping whisky by the bottle he had told me things no one ever did. No past, no future, jus the moment. Him n me and no waiting for tomorrow. the moments il never be living again, ones which were here today, gone tomorrow……..

Its chemical nature that faster the association, so is the dissociation. Ours was no different. I do not want to talk about why it happened, for I personally can’t substantiate the reason. I wanted him to answer me all of that and much more. but perhaps he never wanted to hurt himself by being reminded about it. It was too fast for me to realize he was going away before he had already checked out. How I had always wished that every moment of his life with me goes filled with gladness. It wasn’t his fault; I was plain unfortunate that I became the soul cause of alas! not happiness but every gloom he knew! I thank him for the ‘sudden’ drift for the pain at once was too intense for me to groan in it. Personally speaking, that was unfair. I was expecting to break a bond in a minute. A person doesn’t do that. Not without a little hesitation. I was entitled to a little uncertainity and painful doubt. A little understanding from him to take a moment and realize the magnitude of what it means to cut him out of my life.would have been nice…..

I will never be able to forget that night. The night we did our last goodbyes. both us had known there was no looking back again. I did not know how a simple night could cause an eternal revolution inside my soul. I remember I was listening to ‘December’ by an unknown artist, crouched in my bed sheet and chilled by the artificial coldness of the AC and the natural coldness at heart. I call the night special for it taught me something as simple as ABC.i wish I could sleep but there was a knife underneath for everyday I had known him. It was pain out of loss of the only ‘man’ I knew. My throat was slit like I was a flower. All I remember is that I was switching positions on the bed, every 10 mins out of uneasiness and loneliness. There was no him, no voice of his, no sound of dragging smoke out his cigar, no more muddled up issues. Above all, I was deprived of the only reason I had to celebrate life, to go on…Everything around me seemed to grow so quiet; as if he were the wind that blew and I were just a cloud carried upon it. I thought I listened to such sad songs so that they could aid me get out of pain. I was wrong. In fact. I never wanted myself to slice away the pain with a scalpel or shove it in a closet. I realized loneliness had known me by name. darkness was my home. The place where my heart was. I liked to be in pain. May be I was wired that way. Without it, I wouldn’t feel real. I learnt not to expect happiness. I learnt it’s not something u or I deserve. When life goes well, it comes as a sudden gift. It can’t last forever. I am no more a girl who can’t take It anymore. I’m not immune, but ive learnt to stand up. Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse, had never been. What kind of hell would that be? For goodness sake, I was better off……

I have no regrets but major disappointments, we couldn’t last. I m only sad that he’ll never be able to know how much I loved him. I feel, I should’ve have given the truth, cause it was all I could give. Or may be I should’ve said it out loud to him to hear it for myself. I owed to him at least that much. I perhaps was way too stringent. I realized that sometimes you ve have to give permission to not be hardcore for once. Being tough every minute of our lives doesn’t take us places. In fact, there are moments in life where letting down your guards is the best thing you can probably do, as long as you choose your moments wisely. I had my moment to do so for myself but the wisdom to choose it was lost. Today, there are no two ways to it……

You can not say to the sun, more sun or to the rain, less rain.I could not say to him, come back or say to myself, forget him. it was not for me to want, it was not for me to deserve. I believed in leading my life like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until I splashed into something that forced me to find a new course. However, I dared to feel and I dared to dream. That was a mistake, though my favorite mistake.

Sometimes I wondered, if I went back to him with all my heart, would he still comfort me? Will I still be his baby?? Unlike the past, today, the answers to these Qs seem irrelevant. I no more gaze the starry nights in the expectation of a reply for I don’t need any .the smoke out of the wood knows no smell and the fruit, no taste. Like so much in my strange life, I was carried like a current. But the heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves till one day there are none. That day in my life hasn’t arrived though. Old scores haven’t been settled and wounds are still left unhealed. I do not have a quick fix solution that I can stitch it up, slap a band-aid and walk away. The most I can hope for is that one day, il be lucky enough to forget. That if I rip the band-aid and let it breathe, it will heal. For one thing, if he sits back to recall when he’s free, the reason for the crack inside his heart would be me.

If you have experienced an evening more exciting than any in life, you're sad to see it end, and yet you still feel grateful that it happened. Mine is synonymous. However , some wounds are deeper than they first appear. you can’t read loss or see loss. U can only feel it……