gone with the wind

there was magic in the air, the skies were pink with purple clouds. ok maybe thats a wee bit too bizarre. the sky was pink. we’ll leave it at that. the raindrops came preserved in loving hands that held each other. willingly. without awkwardness, without force. but willingly. like the alchemy of desire, it flowed. with natural grace, like nothing else could be more perfect. could it be? than holding hands, than laughter, than a kiss on the forehead?
the magic is blowing in the wind, it ceased with the rain. did it stop in jolly ol’ london? or did it stop in the desert sands of arab-world? maybe it came with the coming of who-knows-what. or with the beginning of this-and-that. i wish i knew. eyes are averted now, eyes are teary. coke is salty, not fizzy. tee hee. fizzy, fizz, fiza. just like alchemy of desire. im a lot like fizz. not the kind in coke. but the fizz in the alchemy of desire. i love, so much, and one day, for him, to him, just him…it just goes away. i dont know why, he doesnt know why, and im searching for answers that only he holds. he doesnt seem to know them either. i ask idly, eyes shut wide open, fixed at the vendor on the path, my hands trembling, threatening to drop the plastic glass.  he answers in a voice that seems so, oh-so far away. my eyes close for a few precious and painful seconds, and i go back to months and months ago. when a couple met at the same place. they held hands, they laughed, they were pefect and belonged to a world only they had passports to. the same couple sit together, miles apart. there is no touch, no laughter.
"whats wrong?"
"i dont know"
"its with you. i dont feel any different"
"there has to be something wrong"
"i dont know"
"is it me?"
‘no. i dont know. i havent thought about it"
"is there someone else?"
"then what?"
"i dont know"
but i dont know either. and i bury myself in polaris, a star of the second magnitude. i bury myself in the god of small things, in an equal music, in shantaram. i bury myself in simon and garfunkel and like them, i have my books and my poetry to protect me, to keep me warm. i bury myself in remembering what my mothers arms feel like, what it feels like to sit on my fathers lap and in the hope that it will be a happening, not just a memory in 3 days. i bury myself in new acquaintances with whom i am uncomplicated and free. with whom there is freedom and a lack of complexities. i bury myself in fascinating professors who speak of even more fascinating things. i bury myself.
i have two hands. he has two hands. his hands can hold mine. cant it?
cant it? i. dont. know. i dont. know. i. dont know. i dont know.

One thought on “gone with the wind

  1. i so much wish that i could make you read all these in front of me..n once u are done i would have asked u to repeat u are not scared..i jus wish..

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