Thursday, 28 April 2016

Dream me a paradise.


Growing up, in the last 7 years has been a dichotomy.

There's a part that lived in a single room in hostels across this country, alone. Surviving and persisting.

There's the other part that found home in the strangest of places, mostly people.

This part traveled, and saw that they're all alone.

Kept it's head on the shoulders of people who could've otherwise never been known.

Danced in bonfires, in the mountains while they silently fell in love.

Smoked in strangest corners with better conversations than those across the table.

Painted those walls of new homes in each of those places, with colors of memories.

Each painting turned out to be a memoir of times left behind.

Behind? That backpack has it all, those places will always smell of those memories.

Music became teleportation, to times of love, loss and happiness.

That cup of coffee, not breaking itself across the years smells of spilled love.

Could I have done it any other way round? I don't think so.

There's more love than I could've ever thought.

I'm taking it all.

Across the times to come, when maybe it'll seem like its not enough.

I doubt if what'll seem will be true.

There's more of it than anything else.

This is more than just a thankyou, for the memories.

thank you, Bhumika B. Photography


5 comments:

  1. I wish I could have traveled to many places and did things to heal my broken heart... I think seeing the world could have helped me get over it quicker... One day I want to thank him for the memories too... I'm not quite there yet though... I will be some day... xox

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  2. Meeting new people gives different memories... Expressed well...

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  3. Some have the tendency to shut themselves out and constantly curl inward, while simultaneously trying to extend a hand and reach out to the outside world. It is quite a revelation when you realize that this intimidating mass called 'world' is made up of people like ourselves, maybe going through something similar, or worse. It is sad that at times, i have welcomed those people with cold anxiety and aloofness, suspecting their intentions and expecting the worst. But that is how you shut out love (in all its forms) from your life.

    This piece hit a chord somewhere. Maybe it's the timings. Maybe it's the way you write. Quite possibly, it's both.

    I loved it and will probably be reading it many times over.

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  4. I like the way that this was written...an ode to memories past and also could-have-beens. But also touching on future possibilities...

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  5. How touching. And how honest and true. Don't we all have that one person? :)

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