Gardening the Bhutanese Way

Saturday, October 26, 2013

The Bygone Memoirs

 There were times when we would talk for hours,
When we didn't care whether our ears get heated up due to the radiant heat transfer,
The cell would swing from my left ear to the right and then back again.
Cursing the phone when the battery displays its last bar,
Consistent with those longing desire to talk for hours together,
Resisting a minute to elapse by without talking.
The times when our mouth did the twin duty of eating and talking,
When my left and the right hands took their turns in holding the cell.
Often would I mumble and rehearse words to be spoken,
Whenever I run into the mirror in the bathroom.
The moment when I chanted prayer instead of the grace uttered before food,
Was the time when your sweet words were reverberating in my subconscious mind.
Playing hide and seek with my cell phone beneath the desk in the classroom,
In dire anticipation of a message or even a missed call from you.
That was more than enough to send my heart galloping towards the peak of bliss.
The times when all I cared was a sweet word from you.

Gone were those wonderful days,
And gone were you from the vicinity of my sight.
The frequency with which we talk have caught a drastic decline,
The way in which we express ourselves have reduced too.
Not because we aren't in love or feel for each other,
For we do and are matured enough to behave this way.
Nevertheless, each time, I die of the fervent desire to talk to you,
To pour my feelings and scribble words on your heart all over again,
Had it not been for the distance that spaced us out,
And withheld us from talking and expressing to our hearts’ content.

But the memoirs have I embedded in my brain,
Sculptured and engraved on my heart to be cherished forever.
No matter what, bound am I to the proximity of your existence,
Tethered firmly by the undying string of your love,
And I dwell in the secured realm of your love.


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