Firstly, I am not writing about something which people are not comfortable to talk about, or any topic that is untouched by society at large, or any remark on the conventional Indian ideas. Nah! It’s a theme which is untouched by me. This piece which you are about to read, cannot exactly be called a poem; perhaps, a flow of overwhelming emotions. I read At First Sight by Nicholas Sparks lately, which inspired me to write something related to the subject he always endorses in his novels. He is one of my favourite authors not because I am a Romance-genre fan but I like his presentation of words and his way of turning a simple story into something beyond complexity. Anyway, I cannot compare my writing to him, (nor do I wish to) ’cause I am nowhere near him. Nevertheless, he is a great inspiration especially for a person like me who doesn’t believe in the existence of concepts reflected in his books, but who wish to write something related to it. Just a little naive try!
He loved me like I was that mirage on a sandy desert,
Like I was the last leaf on that once vigorous tree,
Like my fondling was a holy breath on his skin,
Like my voice a lullaby,
Like my wet lips a cure to his weakness,
Like my face a portrait,
Like I was an epitome of perfection,
Like I was his pristine poetry,
Like I was flawless.
(How could he endear me so much when I couldn’t reciprocate his un-boastful, inevitable, kind and gentle, vehement, intense, and vouchsafing love?)
His own perfection, and
That he thought I was a reflection of his own,
Encumbered me nowhere.
But, His love I still remember,
His touch I still embrace,
And, still His beats reside in my heart.
Can we fall in love again?
But, changing our places this time!