Posts Tagged ‘missing’

You’re a whole life I miss

October 30, 2015

You’re a whole life I miss.
This song I found just yesterday –
This song we never listened together..
It will be one of those, the first among them all, that we will never listen together.

I love you.  I do.
I’m sorry.  I hold myself a lot I won’t say this thing to you.
I am happy.  I am living a life.
I don’t want to be the hope – once again – that  we’ve lost already.

No, this is only today.  I don’t cry often.
I felt like sending you a mail.  I didn’t write that one.
This is what we’ve come to –
Songs never listened, mails never sent…

I know you’ll read this.  I know you’ll cry too.
I really don’t want to make you cry.
I want you to let me slip into oblivion.  I want to help you do that.
And I’m still making you cry..
Can you forgive me for this, ma?

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Of an infidel morning..

July 2, 2014

Such infidel thoughts in this circumspect world – and you’re being watched from everywhere. I’m missing a girl whom I shall not! But is there really something that “one shall not even miss someone”?

I was reading Slow Man by Coetzee this morning. Paul – my protagonist, a man of 70 with his leg amputated – pondering over his feelings for his caretaker Marijana – while she is dusting his books. Paul tries to find an exact word for his feelings. If he has to choose one word, he thinks, it would be admiration. “Can desire grow out of admiration, or are the two quite distinct species?” Paul thinks.

I, suddenly like a twinge, thought of a girl whom I had fallen in – principally an admiration. Whatever it was, it kept floating between admiration and desire – more towards admiration. What was it that I admired, I know not. Not really intelligent – someone whom I would put in “average” range – someone who makes mistakes in spellings and words and gets confused between convince and convenience. A beauty she was – no doubt absolutely gorgeous (so much that I once in my thoughts had named her Georgiana), but that must not be the reason. Was it her innocence? Perhaps it was, at least for the first few days, but later it was more of her reluctance to fall. I knew she admired me – a lot – and hence perhaps more cautious to let it not move up to desire. Sheer reluctance! Perhaps, it was no more an innocence.

My days were counted. As such, I was kind of taking a liberty to indulge, knowing it is to end on a fixed date. I weaved my days around her. I knew it was cruel of me trying to break her reluctance and I was still doing it. I knew it was best of it to leave it unsolved, and I was still trying to untangle it – only such that it does not get solved indeed. I lived my days between a yes and no – between admire and desire.

With an abrupt end, it started to fade away day by day. It was never to the stage where I could text her and say “I miss you” – in fact, never even where I could text her anytime I want. So when I was reading Coetzee this morning and was thinking of my Marijana, there was no question of me letting her know about it.

Then it started raining today – first real rain of this monsoon – making the weather kind of romantic when you see it out of the windows – and I set myself afloat, let myself flow…

Of a poem and a dream…

November 12, 2011

Another Saturday. Life passes week by week. Ideas come and go. Days pass. Saturdays, Sundays, and then Mondays. What’s the thing that’s missing?

Hmm, my mp3 player is too intuitive. I wrote what’s the thing that’s missing and it started playing Enge enathu kavithai. Where is my poem–one that I had written in dream?