Sunday, 18 November 2012

Love Letters in the Sand

I read them all again, the letters that you had written to me;
Today, over a cup of lukewarm tea;
They sounded inane, soulless, staring at me through dark, empty sockets;
Your declarations of love stood, tarnished, forlorn and cold in Delhi November;
A splash of coffee marked a tissue you had written on impromptu at a long-forgotten cafe;
It had a cute face at the end that mocked me innocently;
I thought perhaps that unknown to me, it had always known why it was there.
Another one had a bit of lasagna sauce on it;
It was the one you gave me on a Valentine's Day in an Italian restaurant;
I smelled it. It smelled of dead leaves and autumn, not love.
Then, there was the card on my birthday that promised that you'll be there to watch me grow old;
The words a reminder of how they were just words, ornate and impersonal like the cold golden cover of the card.
I also found today, the book with the caricatures that you had made of me;
They were all very flattering, but I missed me in them;
Did you ever see me for who I was? Or was I just someone you had conjured up in your imagination?
I rummaged through the reminder of our lives together without the overwhelming urge to catch any feelings;
The trinkets and gifts looked like they belonged perhaps to another me now lost in time and space.
I read the fragments with songs that you used to put under my pillow and in my purse from time to time;
They read like they were words borrowed from someone else's life.
Later, I found the frame with a picture of you and me grinning. Happy.
I remembered the day at the beach where a photographer had taken a few bucks and shot the Polaroid;
It reminded me of the other pictures, now lost in the hard disk of a crashed laptop like our lives together.
A gust of icy wind made me reach out for the tea cup but, it had turned stone cold, just like our love.


  1. when you understand it all ... you refuse to make or believe on any commitments. You just enjoy what the moment offers :)


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