Samya's Space

(Wed, 22nd February 2017) To he-who-must-not-be-named, Today, I went really close to your house. I couldn't muster up the courage to walk down that little lane which you said leads to your house. I think it was because somewhere deep down in my heart, I knew that if I go down that road, there's no coming back. Literally and figuratively. Lately, I've been recalling how close we used to be, so much so that you even knew which dimple was deeper than the other. So can I say we were once intimate? Yes, I suppose I can claim that much without any doubt. You stil haven't divulged and I still do not know the exact reason for the two of us having to part ways in such a painful manner. But I must tell you that the pain is starting to ebb away and so are the memories. The last time I talked to you, I was talking alone. You had once more given up on talking to me. But I remember that you said 'I desire to see you', but I think that was just curiosity. Maybe you...

I must keep writing for it liberates me.  Lord Buddha preached to not make promises while you're happy and to not take decisions while you're sad. Contemplating this, I can only think of the way too many instances where I have done quite the opposite. Almost all my promises were given with a smile and the major decisions of life taken with a heart filled with unspeakable grief or anguish.  THE IRONY of it is sad actually.

Do not seek here love that knows no boundaries glistening in my eyes looking into yours Do not seek here the sweet waiting that filled my heart  with each one of your promises Do not seek here the worry I felt seeing you unhappy and caught up in your fears Do not seek here the warmth of my touch as I clasped and wrapped your hand in mine Do not seek here the tears that flowed down as my heart broke inside me, quietly But do seek here a flower wilted and dying, shuddering  as you pick up another blooming flower.

“At first I did not love you, Jude; that I own. When I first knew you I merely wanted you to love me. I did not exactly flirt with you; but that inborn craving which undermines some women's morals almost more than unbridled passion--the craving to attract and captivate, regardless of the injury it may do the man--was in me; and when I found I had caught you, I was frightened. And then--I don't know how it was-- I couldn't bear to let you go--possibly to Arabella again--and so I got to love you, Jude. But you see, however fondly it ended, it began in the selfish and cruel wish to make your heart ache for me without letting mine ache for you.”  ―  Thomas Hardy ,  Jude the Obscure

Come here sit down beside me. I don't have much to give you or show you. but i have a stack of books, of very much cherished yet battered books, worn out as i have with years, and just as my soul, still smiles through the discoloured, well-perused pages. so i shall read aloud to you, or you can read to me, and i promise you ill be all ears, my attention will not waver off your voice for a minute. either ill let my voice sweep over you or succumb to your voice bathing me with glorious imagination ensuing from those precious words. this is all i can offer. but this i offer with all my heart. i shall sit there in that little hut in that old rickety chair. but i know you will not come. even today you averted your gaze with contempt from me. as always, moved away as if my presence itself was sore to your eyes. but i wont contradict you or reproach you, never. not because your gestures and actions do not hurt and wound me deeply, prof...

Shades of pink around her feasted eyes Soothing, loving words and every comfort material and otherwise that a mortal ever craves velvet at her feet, spacious luxury motors carry her No one scorned her, or was scorned by her I wake up from my daily nightmares to the real one filled with yells, scoffing and insults And resort to pretence of sleep as no more can I do of any result. Flogged, abused, spurned, dragged I stand forlorn on a crowded street Passing eyes jeer with inquisition, I feel like screaming out of it... Her sweetly admired repertoire of intellectual thought my deranged mind in all a baffled sort Her kind, thoughtful words my depth-less jabber, spoken to impress Her recognition and love my shame and hateful vows I feel like strangling a weeping girl with the hands she'd use to wipe those tears I spit the filthy scoffing back at the world with the lips s...