I and You

The last time I saw you, the sky was grey and the sun was sinking.

You were looking so forlorn, so lost, even amidst familiar streets.

I commented on your beard, as it was the first time, I had ever seen you sporting one.

You simply said,” It’s nothing. I didn’t have the time” and shrugged.

I remember asking you if the tea was cold. You had gulped it down like it was nothing.

You were sitting on the stone bench like it was the iron throne, poking you with a thousand swords.

I responded with a fake enthusiasm to offset your melancholy.

You always have a way of bringing out the best in me. But on that day, even my best wasn’t enough.

I remember distinctly how we walked the seaface, you staring at the sea, me staring at you.

You did not agree with me on anything that day. Everything spiraling into an argument.

I go back to that day almost everyday and wonder if I could have done something differently.

You would probably not remember but I had worn the same dress when we first met.

It always fascinates me how these things work out.

You reminded me that, it was over, you and I, and that we had travelled the full circle.

I wish I knew how to react, to accept, to say yes to your no.

You said you wished me best. I know you meant that, I just couldn’t feel it at the time.

I will never forget my journey back home. It was like travelling home after a long battle.

You won, I lost. I would win eventually; I just didn’t know it then.

Portrait:
I am a woman.

I see you notice.

I hear your whispers.

I ride their wave.

I wrestle with the waters.

I am a woman.

I collect your stares.

I fear the beast in your eye.

I dream of the jungle.

I wonder, I wonder.

I am a woman.

I wanted to be touched.

I remember the groping.

I touch still gently.

I understand the difference.

I am a woman.

I pretend to be your woman.

I cry in my sleep.

I hope for the sea deep.

I try to be a woman.

I am a woman.

I wrestle with the waters.

I wonder, I wonder.

I understand the difference.

I try to be a woman.

I am a woman.

I am a woman who walks.

I am a woman who talks.

I am a woman who thinks.

I am a woman.
Onomatopoeia
‘Croak croak’, the crow complained outside my window.

‘Ting’ went the phone bringing news from lands afar.

‘Bam’ something tumbled on the window chhajja.

‘Splash’ went the water in the sink.

What is silence after all, but the noises we ignore.