Like some things become temporary forever. The
silence, the stare, those eyes, that smile…I wonder how time flies giving us
surprises at every turn and twist. He never said anything except the best words
of silence. Had he spoken them out even once, I would have gone with the wind
to break free of all the shackles of convention, to fly with him. But he didn’t
say a thing, and I didn’t go. He went ahead, I stayed back looking in wonders
of what could have been had it been.
How I should remember him, sometimes time teaches me
to do so and at other times, it’s just those temporary forevers, the flashbulb
memories. Like the long gaze of those thoughtful eyes. He could speak so much
and with such conviction with those silent eyes. I could notice a twinkle or
two at times when he used to look at me and my nonstop explanations with such
awe, as if he was spelled under it. I would feel like a sky then. But I never
told him how I felt.
Sometimes, he would speak a few words – of course at
the most unexpected times that leave no room for me to look at him in awe. But
when I recall those times, I can feel those undercurrents like a torrid flush
of raindrops. And I am left burnt out so helplessly. Could we just go back in
time to feel it again, to make a little change here and there? I wish I could.
But I didn’t tell him any of my insane what ifs.
We hardly speak nowadays. Well, not in person or over
the phone. But I feel I do so very often, even more than I actually spoke to
him over the years. Does it mean I get the signs late? Maybe I’m a slow reader.
But I still want to tell him how I felt when I felt. As I grow, the gap between
right and wrong times tends to go blurry just like my eyesight. Maybe there is
no gap at all. I can still see those flashbulb memories running clearly in my
head, trying to play hide and seek. That makes me smile in silence and sigh in
that same awe. I still haven’t told him about any of it.
Maybe someday I should. Or rather, I will let the
pages of the unfinished story do the endless talks. It has been unfinished ever
since it started. In fact, it never started in a way ‘start’ can be defined. And
it never ended too. I still wonder what it could have been like if it had ever
sounded like a complete story. But then, completion does not always have a
clear definition. Maybe the temporary forevers are already complete, like the
flashbulb memories. So, I have decided finally to talk about it, all of it.
Hope he reads someday – the words of silence that pen the unfinished story. And
I will be happier than ever to start with ‘once upon an awesome time’. I could
already feel that smile and those eyes silently staring at me in awe.
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