Patterns

Like those days when I would lie on my back and look at the stars coming out. One by one. I would look at the formations. The faces. People, animals...then the dark clouds moving together as if to hide from the beauty of it all, would start their circus. Elephants would jump and horses would move together...I would ignore and look at the stars again. So the next group, the small atoms that dance in front of the eyes would appear, making you squint. Them, I like. So I try to count them. These were friends. Bluish black skies. Little atoms dancing. Small stars peeking and blinking. Wild clouds teasing. Friends.

Today, there are no stars. There is a curtain, with a very vivid pattern. I just played a round of the same game with it. Finding faces...and I did. That is what being alone does to you. Find patterns you could play with.

Childhood

Burp.
Another piece of prawn fry down.
Sliding behind her, wiping hands and mouth
On her flowery cotton saree.
Her smell lingers to the day
As her memory fades.

Reality Now

I felt ridiculous waiting for the message to come.
Good morning. Are you busy? In office?
Whatever it was...I would leave the world,
And snuggle back into your conversation.
You came and went as you pleased.
Ours was the shortest love story.
Your reality, you said was hazy.
Your randomness more real.
I was getting tired...
Waiting late nights for a message.
The hours were longer.
With you, the flutter in my heart was back.
With you, the tightness in my stomach was back.
With you, my head was dizzy with love.
Now, the shortest love story ever, ended.
You are clipped. You are formal.
I feel the tightness grip my heart,
ripping it apart.
Tears form in the corners of the eye...
And I think to myself...
Why did I let that happen to me?
Why did I have to surrender in your mad passion?
Why couldn't I resist being yours?
And there are not answers. They left me just like you did.
I am back stranded, where I stood earlier.
Not knowing if I should go on or stop.