• thousand_splendid_thoughts 6w

    I have always loved raw write-ups more than anything.
    An oldie this is without gaudy vocab
    and ethereal metaphors.

    When Arundhati Roy wrote about Estha
    in her book,
    'The god of small things'
    that Estha's silence was like a gradual
    winding down and closing shop and there
    wasn't an 'exactly when'. An exactly when to
    when it happened.

    Many thoughts coruscated inside the brain,
    A myriad of observations crept in, lingered
    in my unconscious brain and waited to get
    my attention.

    There are so many observations which if
    looked close,
    are replicas of the line
    used for describing Estha's silence.

    Relationships which gradually winded down
    and we were not able to point
    that when it happened.
    We are left away with unsettling emotions
    with the ticking clock, the moving fan and
    the flying wind whispering the name
    of that particular person.
    It's not like life stops if someone walks out
    of the door and never comes back, it's the
    person which stops.

    "People leave"
    But those relationships never left
    they stayed there hanging heavy in the air,
    with me sitting here trying to rummage
    through some realities.
    I scribbled some one-liners on the closed
    doors, waiting for the sun to shine on them
    and the moon to weep.

    ~an incomplete raw write-up to the
    relationships which gradually winded down
    and closed, with me still sitting outside
    the abandoned ones waiting for them to
    return and tell me
    that it never happened, that it was just a dream.