peeping out from those unfinished pages of my book
I have been reading for the whole day, its like I am stuck in them, all bengali authors. These stories have captured me, in their words, forced me not to leave them, hold my hands to make me sit through, not going anywhere, lost in them, making me realize facts I was running away from, haphazard, bewildering, they bring silent tears but can anyone hear them?
I remember the times I cherish being in a crowd. The first time he held my hand was when I was scared of losing him in the crowd but see, the big irony is, he was not even mine, atleast then.
Another year is coming, so? Why should I be excited? Just because all of them are? What all happened here, in the winters. can I really celebrate its departure? The sadistic me is meekly saying yes.
I can see the sky from my room here, its beautiful, shredded clouds floats. I can see in his eyes a question, I stop to answer, I always do but why is it that I am not getting my answers? The wind is very cold here, it makes me shiver from within.
Parents and us, we share a complicated bond, a true story of love hate relations. I get sad, I complain and I deny that I do. I keep myself in denial, I do.
I can see him smile, he can too see me smile, he will proclaim loud to the world that a messiah saved his life by taking me away but when back in that room the veil of pretense will drop, he will mourn the loss, silent enough for me to hear. I will keep on proving my words to people, people who doesn’t want to know me, I will keep on telling them to interfere in my lives but in vain. Rains will take my pains away. I want the clouds to rain for me.
I am happy, indeed. Here I don’t need to rush anywhere, face situations, a pensive life in some other world. I love it more because I don’t see them, those old faces of distorted illusions, I am away from my fantasies, my sins, my beliefs, my dangers, my protectors. They have lost themselves and I am losing me too.
Its time for me to move away. I watch the sky. I want it to rain for me.
I blaberred it all, I just said whatever came to my mind. It feels good to talk it out with someone even if its a blank,inanimate page, staring at me. I wont celebrate this new year, I don’t know what to celebrate, I really don’t. I will thus keep shut.