One square to the next

Hop. Skip. Jump. Break a leg. Make a leap of faith.

Past participle

on February 22, 2010
I’m tired of having you in my head.

Strains of your voice sprinkled like stardust on waves of fluid music. Psychedelic keyboards, exotic guitars, a flash of bass, the clash of drums. Wisps of beetle eyes and the echo of a laugh, dimples and all, resound noiselessly in the quiet green next to your name. Ours is a relationship whose charm lies in years of silence, chasms of memory and seven lines of conversation.

Do you live with ghosts in your here-and-now, my friend? Mine come to visit sometimes; they kept their dates better earlier. Gently, they bring forth fleeting glimpses of delicate, sun-burnt fingers, seemingly born for the piano but which came alive in the guitar. Snatches of calmly husky humour that made me smile as I read, as I watched, as I remembered.

They nudge me into looking you up, these apparitions of grey; amiably volunteering to peel away the layers that bleach the rose-tint in one’s mind. Bleak around the edges, vaguely visible from the centre in not-quite washed out colour are pictures of rides on your father’s old motorbike, walks down sloping roads past parks of green, shared cubicle spaces and a lifetime of words unsaid. Seconds which passed by quickly in another life, taking us away along with it.

From the other end of the universe, I cannot see who you are today. But if my ghosts happen to come by looking for you, my friend, I hope they find you well.

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2 responses to “Past participle

  1. Ramya says:

    I know this is so going to sound mushy, but am going to risk making this comment. it’s like a written version of a half smile reserved for those instances when we think of / see friends we can no longer afford to keep. Love it.

  2. Aparajita says:

    you should try your hand at poetry, really.

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