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India
Jack of all trades, master of none.....but I guess that is all it takes.

Friday, January 23, 2015

“I miss you” he says…


An age had passed 
and a dream had been broken, 
in those days of silence 
before your message flashed accompanied by an electronic pop of a delayed bursting of the bubble of illusion that was us it said,

“I miss you”.

I could not help but smile as my fingers rushed with a familiar eagerness to type 
and stopped
in their lack of knowing what to say,

in their lack of understanding of what was being said. 

Three words;
and all the years of learning words and meanings, 
and grammar and sentences,

were brought down the 
the one year of knowing the vacillating you.

“I”? …
who was this “I” who had messaged from miles away when those miles had changed you?
For every step that you had traveled had shorn off portions of you that I knew,

and diminished portions of me that you loved,
until I had become insignificant and you unknown.


What was this “missing” 
that you seem to be doing 
which had been unable to breach the silence that you had let fall. 
What is it of you that suffers from this missing?


It can’t be those ears that had been deaf to my calls,

Nor those eyes turned blind to words that I had sent your way. 
How does that beautiful mouth of yours which had no kind words to say to me
or those soft hands which had taken eagerly but not realised when I wanted them to hold me, how do they miss me? 
Or is it that dick of yours which could not find in it to forgive but had given far too easily itself to others when it had wanted to...
does it miss me and the ways in which I had given myself to it and never to anyone else? 
I do not know what missing you talk of.


And what is this “me” that you miss…
the lover you found not worthy of waiting for? 
Is it the host you miss who welcomed you 
and gave you all the comfort he could 
or that source of means you didn’t have to care much about offending? 
Or do you miss the friend you found not worthy of sharing once gone or that node who brought you in touch with people who still welcome you? 
Whom do you miss I know not? Or the why of it. 

Because he is not here anymore…

he got dispensed when you left him as if he was dispensable, 

he stopped waiting when you showed him you would not,
and he walked off when you decided to dance on your own.