I am always in awe of how things change over the fractured time. The silence change, the feelings change, the life changes. So do people around us. It a continuous process of evolving, that brings about this catastrophe of changes in humans with some getting hurt with existance of others.
You left as silently as you arrived.
The monsoon has slowly seeped into damp stale presence of mine as the cracks have fallen into the folds of life. A fold shaped womb that nurtures the cracks making them wider for me to fall across everytime. The everytime of always. An infinitesimal abyss of incoherence. A home of those living carcass.
Chard fragments of incoherence,
Dying in those varicose homes
With empty bowels
And mouth full of wishes.
A surreptious longing
For a fictitious reality
A broken fragrment
Of a fragile destiny.
Papa says his shirt is misfit among all.
I often wonder which shirt is he talking about.
The echoing candles of wishes,
The flickering lights of hope,
Resonating with the enthalpy
Of this invisible darkness.
Every time I thought about writing something to you, I have always failed in some way or the other. Whenever I try to search for appropriate words I stare into nothingness as all my attempts become futile and there is never enough of the words to form a perfect sentence. Yet, this time I’ve finally managed to put the jumbled words and my jumbled feeling into places, which may seem distasteful and may fill you heart with agony, but this is all I can afford for now.
The vices of this atrocious summer has made this oppressive silence fall through the heatwaves carrying across the sticky discomfort of the hustle and bustle.