The road that takes me home from office now seems never ending, as if taking a toll on my senses, choking and suffocating me with every passing metre, there hasn’t been a lack of drive ever before, this form of lethargy. I, now have nothing to look forward to, the evenings which were spent planning about catching up with her, we often used to; with a third wheel, I didn’t mind him either, a friend he was too.
But, as things seem to be fading away, I just can’t get over the fact that those are now memories of the past, some pills are hard to digest, the past is one such bitter capsule. No matter how good the times were, it now feels as if it ended too very fast, too very soon. I wish, we had partied a little longer, a tad bit harder; but then, attributing them in the past tense would now be for the better, whose? I wish, I had an honest answer to this question.
The roads are filled with enough places which trigger flashbacks, drawing me towards them. Holding on is difficult, with the city haunting, the path ahead daunting and the situation taunting my existence. The pubs, the cafes and the roads, everything reminding me of her, the times when She were here, more than being alone and the nostalgia, it’s about me here, being here, stuck by myself, the feeling of being lost in the midst of faces and places I know.
The roads now reminiscent of all that existed, before it came crashing down, I had seen it coming, I hadn’t anticipated this drastic change though. The city all lit up, the traffic stuck and so am I, lost in my thoughts with her in my vision. And, as I see people walk past me, vehicles zooming ahead, I feel like standing on the corner of the road by myself, do nothing but admire the city I fell so much in love with, no love lost here, but no sense of purpose either. Suddenly, all the affection I had, I still have seem unrequited, yet beautiful, the city isn’t pausing to reflect but I am. The good, the bad, the worse: all that it had to offer, has been offered. The boon, the bane and the gift of love and friendship, all that I gained and lost out on, the city’s account has been balanced, no debt on me remains, except for the burden of memories I am left to shoulder, shoulder by myself. The city playing the bag and baggage and the burden, the city and the memories created here now seem to be all that I am left with.
I lost my heart and insanity to it, a part of sanity now is a gift of the city too, and so is the will to carry on, hold myself and live life on the backup of the memories.
The skyline hasn’t changed, the scenery hasn’t, the city still looks the same, but does it feel the same?? No, it won’t ever again. Never again. She for me manifested the city in herself, the embodiment of all things good the place had to offer. And, as I look up, I realize the skies above hasn’t, it stretches until where She’s at the moment at least, my prayers, my plea and angst might be reaching her, heavenly medium I have been blessed with, She blessed me with it. The city will still be loved, so will She be. The bag and baggage feels a little light, the city seems beautiful. And, She?? She is beautiful, prettier than all the sights of the city put together.
abhishek purkayastha 