Saki writes,’ The young have aspirations that never come to pass, the old have reminiscences of what never happened..’
It feels like ages have gone by since I last heard your voice over the phone. It was a goodbye call, laced up with a lot of unsung tears, and unwritten poetries; a goodbye filled with a perfect amalgamation of hurt and love. And nothing has changed since then. The dusk still lights up the barren walls of my room, giving it the same orange shade you loved so much. The wind still blows on cold nights, ringing the wind chime you had gifted me on my birthday. And I sit at the same place every night listening to the songs you used to play on the guitar for me.
Everything has remained still as if the time hasn't moved, except for the fact that you're not around. It's weird how everything is altered and unaltered at the same time. It's like I'm this old lady who can't remember where she placed her glasses and hence everything around her is blurry; everything has silhouettes but not any definite shape. It's a weird middle ground that doesn't feel good.
I wish to remember how your voice sounded like when you were sleepy and how you looked like when you had just returned home after a long day. It's like you're here but I can't see you and that, my friend, is a feeling I don't cherish at all. I'd better be blind than to see a world where you exist only as a dream. I'd better die than wait for things to fall into place. I guess I'm just tired of the games that you've been playing with me; just hand me my glasses will you?
(Picture taken from Pinterest)
