Time

Persistence of Memory by Dali

It’s funny how we perceive time

A week ago I saw the sky shatter on my feet,

A month ago we were worried about the lights in your room,

A year ago you put me up on a high pedestal.

Those glances, passing city lights, faint whispers,

Air heavy with rum and cigarettes,

Waking up with burdens, laying down with tears,

Beating hearts, quivering lips, the storm.

Beautiful hills, dark cold nights,

Lies and truths, battles and wars,

Curses with feelings, questions unanswered

A week, a month, a year of infinity has passed.

It’s funny how we perceive time.

Silence

I was standing among the crowd with music blaring from my earphones. Stations passed, people got in, people got out. Everything was a daze. I looked up and found my reflection on the glass pane. I couldn’t help but to notice the tired eyes. Those joyful happy eyes have turned into something so blatant as tired. My friend suddenly makes a joke, I counter it with something funnier. We both laugh. Silence.
There are still a few more stations to go. My heart still beats with a lot of pain. I am still haunted by my past, not gonna lie. My past is effecting my present, in every possible way it could. And what did I do? I just let it. What else am I supposed to? Forget all the hard learnt lessons? It’s not like I am experiencing something different from the past, yeah maybe slightly. But then, the bottom line would be the same. My friend again makes a joke on something, I just laugh to it. Silence.I remember both those incidents, the day and the night. The starting of something cursed or blessed, I have no clue. I let out a sign. I draw the parallels, find the similarities. I wonder about my future. That’s all what I do. Draw up the similarities and find out how devilish is the act for me and accordingly dispose it. But then this was a temptation. And it grew stronger with time. Each night I realize how screwed I am. Each morning I know I am again going back to my old house of hell, only to be tortured later.
My friend cracked another joke as our station appeared. I tried to laugh the hardest among the silence, but she couldn’t hear me anymore.

Wish

There are nights when you wish for something with your whole heart. You wish it with all the force you can gather in that little heart of yours. But then as usual cruel life would just walk in and ruin it. It would crush all yours hopes and dreams. Throw you down to the deepest of pits since you have ever fallen, it will give you no time to realize that you are nothing but just another small ant trying to find your way into this wide maze. The wide maze where you have no clue how to get out, or why you were put in here in the first place.

At Last when you somehow manage to pull yourself out of the pit, when you have barely just tasted the fresh air, life comes again. But now you are not sure why it has again stood in front of you. All throughout your living span, all it did was to give you blows; harsh blows, light blows, irreparable blows, memorable blows, all sort of blows. You stand face to face with it, but have no clue what blow you are gonna get. You clench your fist, close your eyes, hoping for the worst. You feel the cold strong wind pushing you backwards. You feel the wind trying to throw you out before life knocks you. However, life just stands still. You are confused, what does it mean? Why isn’t it doing anything.
But then I heard somewhere “Sometimes a second feels like a lifetime”.

Changes

Everything seemed to be moving so fast. I felt like being dragged to somewhere else. Somewhere vaguely familiar, somewhere I wished to visit but avoided. It was like fairy dust being sprinkled on me, flying into a beautiful blue sky. I looked back at those dark nights and stormy days, those caged days and countless rainy days. All having the same dream. The unattainable dream, the impossible one.
As I soared, I dared to sing a bit, underneath the angels cheered, happy to see me come out of my cage. Maybe it was time I released myself from your clutches, which I kept holding on dearly for my life. I forgot how the flight felt, those first rapid heart beats, that suspense, everything.

But then there is a fear. A fear so delicate which can’t be told openly. The fear of falling down again, of being trapped in a cage again or worse being killed off by some hunter’s gun. But they don’t hunt anymore. Well then, maybe I will be just trapped again, I will be tricked again, the blue sky might change into another storm. Maybe it will be worse, there will be fire around or snow falling onto my wings, making me give up at once.
I feel so happy and afraid of flying again. My wings want to move faster and take me to places, my mind keeps on reminding of the dangers, of the traps, and there are too many. And I don’t know if I will be stuck in a tornado or fly among rainbows.

Last time

It didn’t hit me till I opened the door to my loneliness. Do you remember those times when we were inseparable like Juno swans? When my words would flow to you and come out as verses. The time when you made our world beautiful?
Is it a coincidence that I have been thinking about you all day? No, no, it’s not what I mean. I mean I am way pass that crush feeling I had. Do the old conversations still mean something to you? Do you remember the first time you called me and said you were sorry? Remember how that started, what I still remember as endless phone calls and endless teasing of our friends?

Maybe it was last night, as I spent the whole night looking at the sky change it’s darkness and give way to bright colours. Sometimes feeling the dire feeling of loneliness as I remember your guitar chords tuning to that old Bengali song which hopefully would make me fall asleep.
It’s been really long, but every time this day of the week arrives and as I get low key excited about it, I am struck by the reality. You do remember that how much we badly wanted to walk the streets at night? And do you remember our favourite street? That street where you showed how much you care about me? That street where you gave me my favourite book? That day where you acted all goofy and I was being all smart? How we took stuff from shops but ran away not paying for it?
And today, we did it. We walked our favourite street, at night but how I wished we were the same as before. Where I could openly jump around and you would join me. But it was so different from the dream. We were just walking, and talking about stuff, which didn’t matter but was enough to reach the partition. As I said a small bye and you turned back, somewhere I still hoped you would turn back. Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But all I knew was that when I came back to my loneliness, I remembered that maybe this was again the last time I will be seeing you. Or even talking to you.

Will

It was dark. And I stood in front of the mirror, saw the silhouette of a girl. Hair open, tall, and nothing else. A black eye staring back at me. Eye filled with questions, happiness, sadness, doubt and anger. An eye which glowed, which witnessed the best and the worst. The eye which held people with love, which held people with hate, which shed thousands of tears for everyone. The eye which held the silhouette with wonder.

The wind kept blowing off the curtains. I remembered the times I looked beautiful, times I looked my worst. The mirror saw it all. Saw me getting ready to impress, saw me getting ready in a hurry, saw me getting ready with groans. It was honest about how I looked. It was always brutally honest, it was the eye who deceived.

The night seemed to get darker as the clock hands ticked by. The silhouette on the mirror began to disappear. I could hardly see anything. It was all black. Black, my favourite colour. Maybe cause it is very similar to my mind. Dark. Filled with facts, filled with stories re-arranged, filled with moments which will never be disclosed, filled with questions which will never be answered, conflicts with the stupid heart.

I sat down on the cold floor, my heart beating slower and slower, my breathing- the only sound, the moon kept getting covered by the clouds. I saw people texting me, loving me cause I am the nicest person they have ever seen. They love me, they really do. People hate me too. Cause I am bad, really bad. I layed on the floor. The cold kept spreading in my limbs. I remember smiling faces, I remember frowning faces, but I can’t remember the faces exactly. How was their eyes? How did they smile? How they looked like?

I just texted a few funny things to people, they think I am funny. They think I am happy. I mean, why not?
My eyes start to close, drops of water fall out from the side, my mind starts swirling, I don’t get what song is playing anymore. People keep texting me, they want more of me. They want to be with me, without my demons. Without the monsters I pet in me. Hazy pictures of good times and clear pictures of worst times comes in flashes. I feel myself falling into a deep pit. I feel something else, suddenly. A hand on mine, a hand caught me, saved me from falling, but then won’t even pick me up. Just kept holding it. I couldn’t see the face, but it was a face I wished it to be. And there I was in darkness and you kept me dangling there. I wanted you to let go, but you won’t. I struggled to get rid of your strong grasp, I cried, I fought. A huge storm arouse, it was raining heavily, I thought you will leave, I found your hand loosening but soon the rain stopped and you tightened it. I kept screaming and begging you to leave me, to let me die in that abyss, but you still hold me by my fingers. And I keep fighting for my death.

A letter to my muse.

Dear Someone,
It’s no secret that by now you know you are my muse, my dream, my secret. I have no clue if you do read these or just ignore them, but now I don’t care anymore. I have loved you long enough to let you go. If you are happy, I will be happy too. People think me as a hopeless romantic who is stuck up on one person. Don’t get me wrong I try, I try to go to someone else, find another person but I fail. I fail miserably sending me tumbling towards you.
I still wonder if you think about us? Was it all in my head; the beginning? How did we meet? What made us to cross each other’s path? Do you really enjoy spending time with me? Did you enjoy those secret rendezvous as much as I did? I know these are too many questions but I can’t help it, we never talk about the moment that passed by, maybe you did not think it as a moment.
At present it comes to this, you have become a distant memory to me. Not too distant to make me forget my feelings, but far enough to term you as just a voice. A voice which can make me forget words, make me forget the world, make me remember that last time I saw your brown black eyes looking into mine. The voice which made me cry after many nights of emptiness. I am grateful to you again.

I don’t know why I cried this time. Maybe the wave of once upon a time hit me really hard. How we just sat there watching things go up and down but kept shut of reasons unknown or too crude to be said aloud. I regret the fact that we can’t be an ‘us’ but I also feel that its all for the best. But is it?
Maybe we will never be able to confront our feelings. Maybe it will all be just composing of stories from each side keeping the real truth locked in our hearts. Or maybe it’s just me thinking too much about it, and it’s nothing from the other side of the fence, just a dry wasteland. Maybe it will always be a wasteland and I will keep on imagining it to be the grassy field cause the fence is too high to peep on the other side.
Perhaps our story will always be a maybe and if.

Yours, hopefully forever,
Anne.

Regrets

Sometimes I do regret….
All those times when I could have kept my ego aside
When I could have just taken things as they came to me
To just go with the flow
But I choose not to.
Why?
I just wanted to make things as they should be
As I always plan to
As I think it should be
But somewhere between the war of mind and heart
I lost the precious times which could be made into incredible memories
Craved forever into the tombstone of time.
Yet I claim to be happy, tearing apart.
Maybe showing it won’t work anymore
Doesn’t matter in either ways.
I have pushed aside those who love and don’t.
Did not even care to differentiate.
Hoping for a day when I wake up with rays of sunshine,
When all I get is just clouds broken on my bedroom floor.

Dreams

It’s 2:00 am now. I feel the cold wind coming through my window. It’s a bit crazy to open the window at this time of the night and weather. But I don’t feel anything. I stare at the huge black void in front of me. It’s been years and months and now I am on the verge. Don’t ask me on the verge of what cause I don’t have an answer to that. I feel everything moving around so fast, people laughing and running, sun rising and setting. I look up that sky, a plane goes by, I wonder what the passengers are thinking right now? Maybe they are napping comfortably or some woke up just now to get ready. People in their zones, living a life dreamt for them. What if I don’t dare to dream? What if I never thought of dreaming? People dream all the time. I dream too. A lot. But isn’t it weird when it becomes hard? Yes, dreaming becomes hard and suffocating. Isn’t there a point where you wish you could just close your eyes and let the cold wind go through your heart and freeze it like your hands.

I rub my hands, the wind grows stronger. I crave for that road, that silence. I just want to leave everything and maybe take a long walk along that path which I never saw. Or maybe dare to follow my heart for once. Maybe I have been completely wrong all this time. Maybe I was just in a huge disillusionment. But that’s now what I am afraid of. The biggest fear comes knocking me down when I suddenly think what if I am hard hit by the reality and couldn’t stand up again? What if everything I have ever dreamt of comes crashing down on me and leaves me paralysed for the rest of my life? What if the cold wind freezes my body slowly and kills me? It’s not the battle which makes me feel anxious, it’s the consequences. Days go by and I feel like the world moving way too fast for me. I try to run as fast as I can but then I realize it’s just becoming more futile day by day. What am I doing? Is the question I ask myself everyday and I don’t get an answer back. What if I stand back and have a look at this mad chaos of the situation for once? The madness where I have lost a piece of me somewhere. A piece of me which I badly need, a piece of me which was my guiding star, a piece of me without which I might drown in this sea of anxiousness.