It feels like it was yesterday when I
fell for a man who loved me more
than I ever loved myself.
It feels like it was yesterday when I
wore the embroidery of his love on my
silken skin.
The vows we took around the holy
fire keep visiting me every night
when I look at the empty side
of the bed.
With the last vow, I knew you, and I
are tied in an imperishable bond
and will stay together, side by side,
cherishing the places our love
finds a way to.
I rejoiced at losing myself in the
the warmth of your embrace with
the dusk falling, and my soul
rejuvenated every time I woke up
with your scent on the pleats of my saree.
I remember how you loved waking
up to the chime of my bangles,
the tinkling sound of my anklets.
The heaven I had unearthed in
you were my happy place,
and your arms were my safe haven.
The moon takes me back to
the days when we used to sit
on the terrace and share stories
over a cup of coffee, do you reminisce about those precious moments too?
Me chuckling at your lame jokes
and you, telling one after another,
just to make me laugh.
Everything seems like a dream
to me now, from holding your hands
to exchanging smiles,
from wearing your scent to
sleeping in your shirt.
They told me to get rid of your
clothes from the wardrobe,
they asked me to scrap your
pillow, and do away with your
favorite lavender-scented candles,
but I didn’t, and I never will.
How do I make peace with the truth that it's over?
How do I put an end to the story
that has flourished in every corner of our house?
They are not just your belongings,
but the souvenirs of our unfinished
yet everlasting love.
The transition of being loved to left
was devastating.
Not having you around,
not seeing you anymore,
breaks me a little more every day
when I look at your ironed linen
clothes in the wardrobe,
I fall apart every night I sleep
in your shirt and hug your pillow
thinking of you.
If only I knew, you and I are not
going to make it together
till the end,
I would have never left you alone,
I would have never screamed
at you,
I would have never said things
I didn’t mean.
Now that you’re gone,
all I’m left with is an empty house
whose corner knows my grief.
The walls that listen to the elegies
I write to you every night before
I cry myself to sleep,
the ceiling that stares me in the eye
and is a witness of the turmoil
I bury in me.
By Adity