Skip to main content

When I walk into the Night

All good things come to an end, until they begin again. I am not sure if there would be a sequel in this lifetime. I don’t even know if the crew would come together for another shoot. The universe that plots togetherness, plans the parting too.

I knew and so did you that the time we spent together, we would never relive again. As I spent those seasons in time with you, I freeze framed the best of you. In my fear of forgetting you, I frantically keep you alive in my blogs, my poems, my passionate debates on relationships and my ever increasing play-lists of yesteryear songs.

One day, when I walk into the night, I would lean on to your memories and they will carry me through. When I meet my maker, together, we shall say hello!

Comments

  1. Beautiful Rajesh - a reminder that we walk with people at different times of our lives - some longer than others.

    ReplyDelete
  2. The implications of your BLOG today are subtle and moving. Thanks.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I like your words, "I would lean on your memories..." They reminded me of a conversation with a friend.
    She had lost her mother a few months ago and commented that various things reminded her of her mother, made her cry, and made her sad. I asked her if they were good memories or bad ones. "Good," she said. I told her that I hoped that soon she would be able to smile when she thought of those things, and any tears would be sad from missing her mother,of course, but also happy tears that she had such nice memories.

    ReplyDelete
  4. "All good things come to an end, until they begin again."
    A very optimistic ending to a phrase that everybody has said.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Hush

You don't have to tell me. I just know. Its that little sniffle that comes through The unexplained pauses The slow responses I know when you call Just because you needed to cry.

Long Winter Chill

If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.

Travelers All

Not all days are the same. There are those nameless faceless ones that are born out of ennui and quickly fly into oblivion. Nothing good comes from them. All they do is burn rubber. They don't take us closer to our destination. Then there are those days when the skies open up. There is an earth scattering screech, the kind you know will give way to a loud bang. Scarred for life you limp along, again. Crying over those who died and hurting for those who refused to ride with you again, you ride, for this is the only option you have known. And then there are those rare rare fairytale days. The ones that starts off without a cause but go on to transform themselves into days of momentous impact. These are those days that leave behind magical memories. That feeble hint of a smile amidst deep furrows of pain are from days as these. Travelers in time that we are, let's pray for short burst of sunshine and a fair share of fairy tale days.