Her insatiate heart was starving for an unrestrained yearn of a touch. The man of her love is gentle and tender but those make her wheeze all the night. She waits for the past, the man when he touched her body the soul shivered. Her heart spangled for the irresistible dream of a boundless sea, to sail only her and him. Where is that man? He was hiding behind the stories of a rugged world, where lust merges with the notes of eternity.
Merry Christmas, a word which brings a lot of memories to me. The memories of growing up. When I was a kid, I used to sleep at night with dreams of getting gifts from Santa. The favorite old man.
The morning of Christmas in Kolkata has always been fascinating to me. My parents used to take me to the St Paul’s Cathedral. The candles, the people, balloons, happy faces and colored winter clothes are all I can remember. Then, I used to visit the New Market of Kolkata, holding the hands of my parents. Nahum’s the year-old cake shop of New Market used to be crowded but we have always waited in the line to buy cakes. The smell of the cakes, the small to big far trees, the Christmas bells and balls used to be all over the market.
It is the story of my childhood. It is the story of a day which has always been my favorite. I still remember that in Kolkata, it was also the day of new film’s release. Most of the time it was Sandip Roy’s Feluda. We used to stand in the long queues of the ticket at the Priya cinema hall. We didn’t have the BookMyShow app back then. But trust me, waiting for a ticket is very interesting and then buying popcorn before watching the film was another attraction.
With time I have grown up. Many more memories of college days have added to this day. But this day has always been exciting. Now, when I stay in a city and spend this whole day alone in front of the computer due to work. It tells me that childhood should be missed. The excitement was different then.
Life has taken its own turn and I am working journalist now. Growing up takes many small things from life just like the fun of this day.
Tears were running down to share the pain.
The pain of a loss without any hint.
The night was talking to me slowly,
I knew what I want and whom I want.
I reached there to cry and to cry keeping my head,
But nobody was there,
Nobody was ever there
who can hold me tight
I wanted to be alone with her for tonight,
The dark night whispered the truth “You cannot”.
I looked at myself in front of the mirror
The tears have been my best teacher,
I told myself
I can walk alone.
Every night I wait for you,
I wait to hear your voice
which flows from the universe.
The voice from somewhere
which keeps me walking.
The solitude of your melancholy voice,
makes me wait every moment for you.
The attraction for you never dies and
the wait never ends.
If the world asks me to stay alone,
If the night asks me to stay just with myself.
I know you will come and be at my side,
in the darkest nights of my life,
I knew that you are my solitude.
Behind the life where darkness holds me,
I found you there.
Within the tranquil woods of love,
you were silently staring at the moon.
The beauty which defines you,
the splendid sky and the melancholy notes
of an old violin were telling our notes.
Following the trail of your of your rhythm
I found my life.
I was lost amidst the darkness and the mundane days,
I met you as lovers meet.
I didn’t hold you back as lovers always allow to let it go,
but loves because I knew only to love.
Love happens the way do not imagine. It comes to our life, make us blind about everything and go. When I talk about love, I think of the dusty roads of the city where we walked together for the first time.
With every single step, we try to know each other. Love does not teach us to judge but to know from the heart. Love teaches us to move and not to hold back. Love is that sound which you often forget to hear but when it comes, it leads you out of this world. Everbody in this world are suffering in their own way when love comes to us is does not talk about suffering but teaches us to enjoy every moment.
My kind of love is madness. If there is no madness that is not loving. Love cannot be rational because something irrational is magical. People often forget that love is not about the craving to be together. But it is just staying the real self around the person you love. I remember the first time held her hands to cross a road of the city. Love is about that first touch. After that, I have touched her many more times but that adventure was not there.
We do not want to feel the love but want to realize that we are needed somewhere. We can die alone but not without love. Every day we love the person more and more. If we try to forget someone, it is just that we are keeping the person in a special room. Love is not about forgetting but to cherish the memories. If I ever meet her in my life, I might not want to hug her but to follow her gaze. When I talk about love, I talk about memories. Love makes the best memories of our life. Forcing us to forget love is denying to stay with the best of the memories. When I talk about love, I think of the silence between us and not the moans.