By Snigdhangsu Bagchi
And if I'm being honest? Attachment hurts.
Voices don’t last forever, unifying our silences together. Close your eyes if need be; holding on again to lost dreams. Tonight let’s just settle in.
I fell in love with you in moments measured in breaths and over time, people I love snap me out and I am no longer the guy you fell in love with. Stories are just a form of art I suppose just like me. It does get dull and fades it's colors.
Do you remember?
The wild sky and for there were countless stars, for all that it brightened up.
The multiple ways we counted constellations held in hands and all I seek were mysteries of universe hidden in your eyes.
I wish, I could show you how the stars glowed every other night to seek the Moon in the dark sky. But like the glowing moon with deep craters, one looks beautiful with heartaches, I believe.
You keep standing there to the crestfallen and sadly we live in a reality were people pray for the dead than care for the living. We all stand there and watch the dead flowers and pray somehow they will grow. We live in a world full of stitched souls and masked faces. The unheard prayers fading into silent stories along with the disappearing crowd. We live among scrambled thoughts and messed up bodies.
Tell me how is it fair?
The people we meet have ugly smirks behind their pretty faces. And we render our own reality and let people choose our happiness. The world is full of options. So much to be, so much to do. Yet we grasp lies for truth and hate for love.
Losing people who made you smile, the ones who made you breathe... Those very special people who made every bad day seemed like a passing phase. I wonder why good things end or do they just keep living inside us?
But with time, I realized people are not poetry and you are not trapped in their notebook of love. We cannot make homes out of humans; something that seems to last but, fades with the spinning time.Unfortunately, life is not a play with scripted plot lines wrapping up in 120 minutes.
The last cigarette I had is yet to cease it's smoke and I felt how the nicotine shot through my veins crackled open in my brain like a thousand tiny explosions.
And I would write about you a lot more than I should. But then I know, it's time to throw all your thoughts that whisper back to me.
There is this painful pause that sits on my chest now but at least love breathes free without being strangled with all your shackles being broken down. You are always there next to me like a passing tangent of a circle; very close, meeting me once but never to stay. That's the destined power of you in me.
I know, you exists.
Only can't see.
By Snigdhangsu Bagchi
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