Skip to main content

Lost Frames

I had a friend when I was growing up. I loved him and he loved me. There was this girl whom he fell in love with. And then I met her and unfortunately...fell terribly in love with her. You know how your first love is. It was magical. It is twenty years and I still remember her perfume and the taste of her lipstick. It is also twenty years since I lost a good friend. He may be dead, might be living a good life somewhere or maybe, like me, struggling with definitions of a good life.

Wherever he is, I miss him and in some corners, so does she. He was a special friend.

Before we parted, he was my friend for about 8 years. If he were around he would have known...that beautiful girl he lost to me twenty years ago never really went on to become mine. I failed miserably when it came to ownership of all things nice and wonderful.

Like parallel railroads to eternity, I and her have stared at each other relentlessly across a small but unfathomable distance. The trains of time have rolled over us relentlessly, without respite. Our once youthful faces have grown vague wrinkles. We smile less often for we know that these lines are going to stay. We talk less because we are afraid of hurting each other. We meet each other less often for we believe that if we need to meet more often them we would be asked to define our relationship in more contemporary terms.

But we still talk about you. Together I and her, we look at that missing point of this crazy triangle. If she had chosen you over me, would all our lives have been different? How would we ever know.

Comments

  1. This is sad.. I think everything happens the way it should be
    I hope a day will come when all three of you meet up and reminiscence the older days

    Best wishes :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. A. How have you been? Happy new year. Will write directly later. Life takes a long time living. Let's see how this story runs.

      Delete
  2. Could you find out? Perhaps it is time to reconnect. It's been so long. Surely you can make amends.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Its an old story my friend. Some of them read like a lake in tears. I let it flow :) Thank you for your visit

      Delete
  3. bingo... life is like that... i m sure, like you n me, everyone else would have a story of this sort or similar to tell...but devoid of such frames life itself is lost :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. That's the beauty of life, uncertainty. But then again, you can always try finding out :-)

    ReplyDelete
  5. Every life is a story... a story that at the same time is intensely personal and yet belongs to everybody. You think and write beautifully. Don't stop.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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.

That Fluttering of Broken Wings

If you were to cross the road and hurt your toe, I know that I will never know. As we go on to take different roads and move on across different shores, there is something that happens to our relationships. Something that estranges, disconnects, disintegrates. I know that you still think of me. I know this because I find myself thinking about you. And thoughts rarely get seeded on their own. It comes from you to I and from I to you until one of us is alive. Old relationships rarely die. Like broken winged moths, they hang around dark alleys of forgotten memory lanes. Ever so often, I can hear one of them flutter its wings. Not too close but never too far.

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.