My incoherent words aren’t giving a voice to my incessant thoughts. They are wandering almost aimlessly like the molecules of a random chemical reaction. Words have often betrayed me in the past. This time though they aren’t betraying me. They are simply playing hide and seek.
After all it has been long since I played with them. They were pals with my thoughts, not long ago. But today, they seek vengeance from me for not having indulged with them. It was with them, that I spent my wilderness and solitude.It was first through them,that I heard I was a coward a Dalle Bata.It was them who conveyed to me that it was time for me to leave the Firdaus.It was them who saw me in love with the cricket on my wet window just after the first monsoon in exile.It was them I would hide so as not to reveal my tongue for fear of reprisal. It was through them that I explained the meaning of Rasul Mir’s verses to my beloved. It was them who got stuck between her and my lips the first time we kissed. It was with them I wrote my obituary and my life after.
Today when they sink into the abyss of my empty self to hide,I seek them to draw images of the day when my daughter had her first tryst with them.Like a prostitute who bewitches her customers to sleep with her, I seduce my estranged words with thoughts. I plead with them to come out of the abyss.They hide and I seek…..
After all it has been long since I played with them. They were pals with my thoughts, not long ago. But today, they seek vengeance from me for not having indulged with them. It was with them, that I spent my wilderness and solitude.It was first through them,that I heard I was a coward a Dalle Bata.It was them who conveyed to me that it was time for me to leave the Firdaus.It was them who saw me in love with the cricket on my wet window just after the first monsoon in exile.It was them I would hide so as not to reveal my tongue for fear of reprisal. It was through them that I explained the meaning of Rasul Mir’s verses to my beloved. It was them who got stuck between her and my lips the first time we kissed. It was with them I wrote my obituary and my life after.
Today when they sink into the abyss of my empty self to hide,I seek them to draw images of the day when my daughter had her first tryst with them.Like a prostitute who bewitches her customers to sleep with her, I seduce my estranged words with thoughts. I plead with them to come out of the abyss.They hide and I seek…..
