WORDS WRITTEN IN SILENCE

Blindfold; nowhere in sight

Whips
Chains
Burning candles

Blindfold; nowhere in sight

Anticipation
Translating to
Unparalleled desire

We were beyond instructions

Hands restrained
In chains
Awaiting the end of your whip

Blindfold; nowhere in sight

Anticipation
Translating to
Unaccustomed fear

Patience escaping my pores rapidly

Eyes witness
To you in the arms of another
Silence; the most careful of instructions

Blindfold; nowhere in sight

Lust dripping
From your flesh onto an unknown
In the absence of a leaking burning candle

Bound as desired. Bearing witness to pain

Ask me again, if a lifetime of heartache is worth a solitary day of having felt love? I shall say yes and acknowledge that any great love shall bring with it great misery.

The memory remains

We were both seventeen. Lara’s theme played as she accepted my request to dance.

She left her hair open and her mind, it seems. We danced, we spoke, we drank and we laughed.

Married at twenty-five. It was simple as that. My hand held hers tightly; just as I had the night we danced eight years ago. She left her hair open. We danced, we spoke, we drank and we laughed.

We shared the pleasure of being each others’ “firsts”; making love under the stars on the first day of summer. She grew from being a clumsy adolescent to a lady the town looked up to. We never spoke of us not being able to conceive; sharing our moments with one another was always enough.

We were children at heart. Yes, yes we were. Again, it possibly came back to our inability to conceive. So, when she left the car running one night, before our friendly neighbours alerted us; we were grateful. And yet, we laughed.

Nineteenth of April 2009, was the day I turned forty seven and the first time in twenty-two years, I had woken up alone. “I went for a walk” she said. And, we laughed, as she handed me a daffodil.

We had always shared our firsts. Remember?

She was the same, on the outside. Yes, yes she was, or so I told myself, despite my inclination to believe the signs.

She faded like ink; slowly at first, before rapidly deteriorating. I had become a stranger to her, much like the town itself. It was always hardest, when we made love and she asked me to leave, not knowing who I was. Soon after, we stopped.

Twenty fourth of August 2011 and after thirty two years of sharing our firsts, it all came to an end. We would share firsts no longer. There was a time, I remembered for the both of us, as she failed to recall any details of our life together.

The tighter I held, the more she lost. Today, in her absence, I remember the days we danced, we spoke, we drank and we laughed. I shall make do with this and for now only her memory remains.

The sound of footsteps

There was a time

You waited

To see them walk

Their first steps

A younger sibling

A, toy

Companion

Friend

Before long

You learn

The sound

Of their footsteps

Letting them in

After three a.m. binges

Or knowing

When they climbed through the window

Time; never the same

We learnt the sound of footsteps

They are the sounds

We, now avoid

My love for you is like the truth; a slow-burning fire.

A love story for six seasons

Shishir
शिशिर
Winter

Our eyes met before our hands.
We never needed words; not then
The warmth of our bodies held us together

Vasanta
वसन्त
Spring

Words of love shared between kisses
Blooming like the tulips in your mother’s garden
Hands entwined; cherishing the love we built

Grishma
ग्रीष्म
Summer

Amplified warmth under cloudless skies
We wrote stories atop the sun-kissed sand
Future tales of our love, burning bright

Varsha
वर्षा
Monsoon

Curtains of rain hid our kisses
As we danced to the sound of thunder
And the falling rain beneath our feet

Sharad
शरद्, पतझड़
Autumn

New tales to be written
Stories of separate lives we must now live
Inscribed onto the leaves greeting the surface

Hemant
हेमन्त
Fall, winter

Warmth derived from the clothing
I now wear in the absence of your flesh
A love story for six seasons

The final letter

My darling,

This will be the last time I will write to you. I wanted to let you know I have signed the papers you desperately wanted me to sign and shall be posting them to you via land mail in the coming days.

I did however; want to leave with some parting words. During the time I have known you, I have learnt that you are one who has always been there to help people with their problems, but when it comes to your own, you choose to deal with it yourself. In some cases you hide painful events and memories away in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind and convince yourself of a scenario and live with it. I believe you have done the same in this instance.

Everyone deals with trials and tribulations in their own way. I cannot and will not ask you to change your methods, but as someone that truly does love you, I will tell you this; dismissing and hiding certain traumatic events only leads to misguided decisions being made, even if we feel we’re making the right one at the time.

For many years, I carried a burden and I felt by dealing with internally was the right way to deal with it. In fact, it wasn’t dealing with it at all. I simply had put it away and convinced myself it was the right decision. The way things have unravelled, I know now that it wasn’t the right thing to do. I hope for your sake, you understand this someday and your pride allows you to do so.

Your last words to me still resonate with me very clearly.

“If we ever had children, they could never look up to you” and “You will never change”.

Unfortunately, I really wanted to try hard with you because all I saw was us reconciling, not you standing firm in your decision. I believed your parents would not abandon the idea of us being a family, but I was wrong. By persisting I only followed what I believed to be correct.

It would have been easier if I had been lying about the events of the past to simply not try and move on. However, that is not the case. I did not mean to upset you by trying to speak with you and contact you. Unfortunately, I may have done that and coupled with your lack of willingness to even address the issue that you might be wrong makes this whole situation impossible.

Whilst this whole situation has been about what I have done wrong, you all seem to be blinded by this and have overlooked even the slightest possibility of my innocence. However, I do not have the strength to even ask myself why your guardians and well-wishers will not even give us an opportunity.

I do not have the willpower to continue to try and convince you anymore that I am not guilty of what I have been accused of and that I am sincerely sorry and deeply regret the mistakes I have made.
I hope someday you realise your perspective and methods of dealing can never solve a problem.

You have found a way to convince yourself of my guilt has only led to pain for more people, which of course was initiated by me. The “blame game” we play every day.

If at all you can swallow your pride and want to reconsider your decision, I shall wait. I shall always be waiting. This is not some sadistic desire to continue feeling the pain, but the awareness I have not lied and have been true to myself.

Being true to myself, which has also involved seeking help, getting better and changing in a way you didn’t believe was possible, or won’t allow yourself to believe.

You told me, I had done nothing for you and you wanted to be free. So, I hope the last thing I do, is something that sets you free and that is to sign and return the papers to you.

I shall always love you and carry with me this regret of not having you in my life. Even though none of you can forgive me, I shall forgive you all for your attitude and outlook towards me, for holding on to that anger is a burden I cannot bear.

I do not have the strength to be angry at you for not believing me or at your parents for their view towards our marriage.

I hope God illuminates your path and lets you always remind yourself that running from troubles and trials will not save any of us. I hope God tells you that my prayers for you were real and when His judgment finally arrives, I hope for that one moment you see that I was telling the truth. Unfortunately by then it will be too late, but I still hope you see it, even for that fleeting moment.

Be free like you said you wanted to be. Be free like you deserve and be free like you couldn’t be with me still lingering in the air.

Always yours, with love and sadness.