Since last six months a quirky thought of cleaning my wardrobe was wandering across the highway of my head, and I as usual was trying to be calm and avoid this thought at my best and I succeeded for so long, six long months, I mean that’s an achievement within itself ya.
But finally came the moment where I had to surrender, I had no option left because my mother has declared the ultimatum that she would kick me out if I don’t consider her order of cleaning the ‘mess’, yeah the ‘mess’ she called it.
So I began with the mission cleanup, in wake to make my mother happy with neaten and tidy up closet.
Okay now from where to start was a big issue, but somehow I managed to pick the upper corner first. Mom was right, it was a mess, things were shattered here and there and one thing which is still troubling me is what the hell was a half consumed mango was doing in the drawer, though it was wrapped in a polythene, anyways ignore it, like I did.
After winning the battle and cleaning the upper battleground, I proceeded further and soon I was there at my favorite corner, the downside of the closet, where I had treasured a few beautiful moments of my life in the form of cards, goodbye diaries scribbled by dearest pals, a few blur roses who had lost their charm but a faint sweet fragrance was still there and a photo album to refresh the wispy flashes of good times.
I was lost in that corner completely and couldn’t even notice that I had rearranged most of the area; I was looking at each tiny element of my precious treasure and placing it to the right place with full care. But there was a thing which I couldn’t help to hold in my hands and open it even after the continuous conflict between my heart and mind. It was the most valuable treasure I possessed, the photo-album.
I held it in my hands for a few minutes, embraced it and my each eyeballs urged to put a glance on those golden moments. I opened it, page by page, picture by picture, I found myself floating in the ocean of emotions, aha! Those beautiful times.
And then at the end, it was your picture, covered with a pink paper, doing this was one of my effort to keep you away from my eyes and never let them see you because I was afraid that once I look at you, I may fall in love with you again, the heart started beating faster than anything and I gave up.
I was on my knees in front of my heart’s deeds.
I tardily unfolded the pink envelope in wake to see your face after a long time. The moment your face appeared, I was cold like ice, frozen yet feeling the heat inside the heart, the heat that would come out through my heart every day after seeing you.
Your every picture was craving me to hear your voice, my each nerve started missing you badly, your smiles, the secrets we shared, the addiction of your scent was still there intoxicating my blood, and the fascinating fantasies to hold you in my arms were evoked.
I had restricted my mind to think about you since I last time saw you and my mind cheated me, misguided me that it had got over you and you are gone, but no, you went nowhere, you are here, etched deep into my soul. My heart lied to me and kept you safe, hidden in the deep soft corner of it.
I loved you, knowingly that you would never be mine, you had your paths decided, but I couldn’t stop loving you baby, maybe I was too weak to get you out of my desires or maybe too strong to love you unconditionally.
You did what you had to do, you walked away because your presence was never meant to last forever, and I tried hard to move on because this was the only option left.
I tried hard, I thought I succeeded and I was happy to know that my heartbeats have learnt to survive without your essence, but your one thought ruined this deception.
I kissed your picture again and again, hugged it and kept crying by keeping it near to my heartbeats.
The every teardrop soaked up by my pillow was enough to make me realize that “Baby! I’m still in love with you.”
I can relate to you. At first, I had carefully kept all her pictures, every card she had given me, just everything that had something to do with her. But everytime I looked at them, it pained me deeply and I realised that I would never move on if I did not let them go. And so I got rid of everything that could remind me of her. But sadly, even though I got rid of every material thing, I cannot erase her from my memory. Some things can never be forgotten. I wish you luck.
ReplyDeletethe lover, people try to move on because its the only option they are left with, but infact in the world of true emotions the thing called "move on" doesnt exist.
ReplyDeleteyou're right Some things can never be forgotten
thanks for being here, i wish you good luck.
Reading first one of your article here..
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and too depth of emotion.
feel like reading more and more, because it resembles some of the moment I was... Loved reading it priyanka..
Will read more..
Regards