...Mulaqat ho na ho. Perhaps!

A while before I was almost into the slumber of my dreams; I don’t know exactly if they were dreams or someone was deliberately getting into my head. That someone is no one other than my astral self. I know for a person like me mentioning astral is a big word and I am not here to work on thesis or science. I am here to talk my heart out and I am wondering if you are here to just listen to my scars and balm them all.
I have been to mountains and walked alongside a cliff. I have seen the sun telling the sky that it’s going to wake up by sending the red shade to the sky which surprisingly fades away the black and turns the black into the blue, and my my! What a splendid contradiction in the game of colors. I have seen sun burning and getting bored on skins making them tan and then ruthlessly leaving stains on the forehead and drowning behind a rocky texture mountain. And I never did fall on the fact that my skin is one of those getting tanned. I don’t know why am I not walking on thoughts which are or were meant to walk upon?

Here’s a problem. Look. I never speak of things which need to be told and talked about. Things which squeeze my heart but I end up talking the curtains. Curtains which drape my mind and make the mess look embellished. See while writing I am into the strategy of not repeating words because that isn’t considered as impressive presentation of notions. But I have a point, and that is I want to write a long long paragraph without using much thesaurus and if I am not wrong I can speak my mind out with handful of words and I am sure you won’t take my writing for granted.

Where was I ?
On the mountains and the games and the colors and everything is a drape.
Where am I now?
Alongside a river.
A river I know will be missed tomorrow and my eyes will crave for the time that was meant to savor the sky and the field extending to the horizon. But son, isn’t this the procedure? We miss the thing and fall out of the facts while they happen and then we want to go back and relive the exact ambience that cannot be re made.

I am forgetting myself. I am no more warm at heart and cold in head. I am having a head rush just like those flickering Delhi traffic lights.
I feel like walking quiet in the hustle with chest wrapped in my arms so that the chill doesn’t make chest hard and less emotional. Because I want him to feel the lukewarm beats inside the leather of my bosom. It wasn’t about him. But yes I don’t want him to feel the cold which he knew would be there when he left. I am on my way to decorated past. Yes. And my past, though beautiful was never mine. Because if it was mine it would have walked past the thorns of present to the rainbow of future.

I was walking past a crowd and my beats were crooning my favorite song, “lag jaa gale ki fir yeh haseen raat ho na ho, shayad fir is janam mein mulakaat ho na ho” (embrace me hard tonight for we don’t know if this night will ring us again; Perhaps! We won’t meet again in this life period.) sung beautifully by lata ji. I loosened my grip to unwrap my chest when my heart skipped on “baahein gale mein daal kr hum ro lein zaar zaar.” (wrap your arms around my chest and cry again and again). I cuddled myself and caressed all my broken and tore pieces. I consoled them with an OKAY.
My lukewarm was dripping away and I remembered all those gazes and braces which were lost and their silhouettes are visiting me with a thump on my head. I have many shadows walking beside me but the lost ones are sitting in the corners and are staring hard on my busy gesture. They cannot penetrate through my skin and look into those voids, those ever expanding voids which they left behind and to be more specific I am a human and I am not supposed to be this asshole to keep things into my heart for this long and then call myself the goddess (or feel like one) but I cannot hate myself because this is one thing that I have learnt from some then till now, my journey has given birth to self-exploration, self-examination and then aiding my failed parts and feeding them for other. I am a pet to my soul and pets are loved. But my soul will live long for pets have less lifetime. And in any case if I die today with this shiver and vulnerability and confusion of where I am heading to in life. My friend, remember I am savoring the savored. I have almost lived all the numb sunrises and scorching sunsets. I am living the chilled winter riverside winds. I am not dead, I am just not living to the fullest and that is my decision.
I will barge in with my unarranged threads once again. Be there to solve.
Hah! thanks for listening. I retard when overloaded. I am off for a run.
Bye.
“paas aaiye ki hum nahi aaenge baar baar”
(Come to me for I won’t visit again)