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The bench awaits you. No, I have not seen anyone in your place.

I remember our days together. On that bench in the park.On cold mornings, after that walk, I would always throw up my hands in despair and occupy this particular bench. And you would slowly come to me. Sit close. Put your arm around my neck and start explaining. About random things. Coax me.

I never relented. You never gave up.

Slowly I would rest my head unto your shoulders. Put my hands around your waist as if nothing had happened. And drift into my land of dreams. Some mocking bird’s shrill voice would wake me up. I never knew how long I lived in my Utopia. And you…..would entwine your fingers with mine all the time. It felt perfect. Just perfect. I would smile. And your eyes twinkled.

A rainy morning, I sat there crying. My tears mingling with the rain. You spotted them. You were my shade, my armour. Once you wrote me a poem. And I rudely passed it off as a “fling”. I could see you were hurt. Very badly. The next day I told you “You are the most precious gift I ever had”. You smiled briefly. But you always cherished the imprints of my love on your face. Then you laughed. Took me in your arms. Again, it was perfect.

My imperfections never bothered you. It did me. I was anxious. Yes, I was contemplating. Of us breaking apart. No longer could we be perfect. You and I had to go separate ways. For good. And I asked you again. The ugliest favour. You fretted. Stomped about. You came up with your alternatives.

I never relented. You never gave up.

I’m not with you now. Maybe you’ll never forgive and forget me. I still haunt you. I don’t want to though.

This empty bench kills me. Tears me apart – into odd pieces.

And you…What would you do if you were in my place ? I wonder.


Ria said…
Aah pain pain n more pain!!
Arv said…
The agony of emptiness has been beautifully narrated here... hope its just fiction mate...

take care... cheers...
Thousif Raza said…
great piece of lietrature.... emotions said have a whole new meaning towards them :)

take care and keep writing.........

to fill the emptiness within me there is none but one way...
thats why i find smoke better than air...

very brutal indeed... infact heartless :)

keep writing.. you rock
Priya said…
"I still haunt you, I don't waant to though...'

More Emptiness surrounding my soul...

Love u gal...
nikita said…
such a beautiful post !!!

gosh..i wish you both be together again....

take care gal...
hauntingly beautiful.. tugs at the heart and drenches the soul.. every time I walk past a bench I am going to wonder about the memories which linger around it...
Phoenix said…
this post rang a bell in a intense sort of a way...more than i can ever express... :)

not only is the post beautifully written but it struck a chord! :)

"My imperfections never bothered you. It did me."

But, why aren't they together? They both seem to suffer.
Tulika said…
And you…..would entwine your fingers with mine all the time. It felt perfect. Just perfect.

Tragic ! But tells a lovely tale..!
JoHn said…
Tragic Brutal Honest.

Perhaps these words describe this post. Perhaps this rings a bell. Perhaps they strike a chord. Perhaps not as the writer. Perhaps the other person would never be in your place.

But no perhaps when I say Brilliantly Written.
this is so sad. so sad. but it reminds me of something and someone. it hurts less than before but still.
Bikramjit said…
sad but then it maybe whats destined... an it maybe for the greater goodness ..

time to move on :)
ANWESA said…
@Ice maiden,

*has no answer*
ANWESA said…

Yes,it is sad.
ANWESA said…
Yes,its fiction.

Thanks for the compliments !
ANWESA said…
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
Thanks !!
ANWESA said…
Even I wish the same...

Its fiction.
ANWESA said…
@Beauty and the beast,

That was a wonderful thing to say.
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
@The Peripatetic Nomad,

Destiny conspired against them. So they are not together. And they both suffer in silence.
ANWESA said…
Yes...a lovely tale with a tragic end...
ANWESA said…
@Madame Deva,

ANWESA said…
May be....
Anonymous said…
Most beautiful poem I have come across...
ANWESA said…

I'm terribly sorry to say that its not a poem,its prose.
admin said…
Ahh..really worth some award..! I am not very much into literature so can't tell which one but I must say that I enjoyed every word of the poem! Thank You!
ANWESA said…
Thanks ! but it wasn't a poem. It was a story.
admin said…
Oops! of course not..just got driven by an earlier comment.. I found no rhyming endings! Good job.
ANWESA said…
Thanks again :)

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a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
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~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017