The breeze

The journey was treacherous. It had drained your very soul away. Tired, you chose to sit beside a pile of boulders. The sun was scorching above. You were alone. Blood was oozing from your toes. Thirst was smothering you to death. Every nerve was paining.

All of a sudden, you could hear footsteps. Some one was approaching you; some one gentle, soft and frail. It was her.

She was elegant and serene. She brought with her the scent of a thousand roses. She had the chill of a million dew drops and the freshness of a lifetime of dawns. She was heading somewhere steadily. Deep down in your heart you prayed if she would stop. She seemed to be preoccupied. Just when she was about to cross you, she happened to catch you watching her. She stopped.

She asked you who you were. You started talking. You talked to her with a rapport that you had never experienced before. You thought she wanted to know more of you. You were only glad to tell her. You told her even about the things that you had dreamt of. She never gave a clue of who she was. She was playful; yet she knew and talked about the journey. She seemed to have had more journeys than you.She was sophisticated.You felt a bit inferior; yet you wanted her to be your friend.

Throughout the conversation you could catch her gazing towards the point where the path touched the horizon; she sure had a long way to tread.

Some how, she could help you re-bind many, if not all, of the broken pieces of that skipping constituent right inside your chest. She could just lift and support that unbearably heavy mind of yours. The sun began to feel cold. There was no thirst. Instead,you felt an abundance of moisture. Instead of pain there were comfort and delight. You prayed that she would never leave.

Out of sheer bliss, you closed your eyes. You were content. You smiled with your eyes closed. When you couldn't deprive your eyes of the pleasure of her sight, you let them open. She was gone! You could hear her footsteps again; advancing away from you.

She was the breeze. She had to go. You cannot hold her;neither can you follow her.

Irreperable loss

I have lost them all....
I have lost those conversations filled with laughter; conversations in which the no: of people engaged and the subject were immaterial; conversations that were made with your hands twisted around the shoulder of your friend while abusing him in the filthiest of languages; conversations in which no one was exempted from 'thepps'; conversations that were made to reach at no conclusions whatsoever, but made just for the sake of it....
I have lost entry into the most pristine place that I have ever entered; the place were you go and yell to irk every Romeo n Juliet lost in each other's charms; the place were u fall dead as log in the cushiony layer of dead, yellow and brown leaves as the sun peeks occasionally through the live and green leaves....
I have lost my place in those weekly meetings were I was seen as an elder brother; were it was about not me but you; were I got all the respect that I have ever received....
I have lost company of some of the most lovable persons I have ever met; persons who would tell u that u cud do even when u believed u were good for nothing, persons whom u would pardon even if they call you that particular name of yours that u hated most....
I have lost the smiles that would come my way every morning in the lobby, in the corridor and in other departments....
I have lost my assignments, my lab-records and my identity card....
I have lost my life...
When it occurs to me occasionally what I have lost, a sense of fear grips me, fear of not being able to have them again....I see what I have lost in my dreams; they wake me up from sleep and I feel my eyes moistening ....I am not smart enough to forgo them all and walk thru the path ahead; for there is none....I am stuck at the end and I gaze at the paths that I have trod....I try walking over them again everyday as I leave ma home in the morning to the things that I have lost because they pull me to them..

did ya tell her??

Why didn’t you tell her? When your eyes used to meet hers, even without the slightest of hints from your cerebrum, you both pulled them out from the other’s; with such disagreeing languidness, that you were certain that the other knew that you crave for it. You told yourself that she mite not like you telling her. You told yourself that you could do it later. You thought that you would never be able to tell her. You convinced yourself that you were experiencing the unflinching pleasure of sacrifice; sacrifice for the sake of the many awaiting tomorrows that are going to be more romantically inclined owing to your much hyped social status then. You made yourself think that you were too young to be involved in this. Even these Herculean, prudent and deliberate endeavors couldn’t avert your heart from her .Your eyes searched for her in a crowd and the very sight of her exquisite hairs would make you certain that she was there. You knew that she was serene, charming, benevolent and considerate and this made you think more of her. Even her countenance blushed up at your approach; this you knew. Still you didn’t tell her?

She talked to you as if you were the only boy around. Was it more than friendship? Was she doing that out of sympathy? You were in an utter state of confusion. Was your portrait in the same frame as that in which her’s was in your heart? All that your subconscious mind had to attend was her. You never gave her a hint, she being more reluctant. She did smile at you when you saw her on the way; but all of your female acquaintances do that. You finally made up your mind that you will think about it later.

Later? But when? ……