Diary of a Lost Wanderer: Silent Whispers

By

The busy lanes of highway gave away to small desolate lanes of the city she had just entered. This signal was enough to set her heart beating faster. Everything around her was soaked in tears, those same old lanes, same buildings… everything screamed to her about the pain they had inflicted to her heart and soul. Coming back to this place after 7 long years was perhaps not at all a good idea, she thought remorsefully. 

Removing her feet from the accelerator, she tried to slow down her pace. Pace that is what she needed to slow down very badly of everything around her; her life, her work the car and most importantly her thoughts. Her wandering mind just didn’t let her sleep since last so many days. And worst, she didn’t know what was hurting her more, being here or just being in the first place. 

Fresh bout of tears clouded her vision making it difficult to see the way ahead. But then she never needed to see the road, she could make out these lanes even if she were blind folded. Those lanes that smelled of the past, somewhere hidden here was her childhood- a time which she never wanted to think about. Those lush green trees dancing to the tunes of the wind sang the song of love she had first experienced as a teenager hidden behind them basking in the sepia sun rays.

Source: Google Images
Wandering aimlessly on those streets she saw various images from her life floating before her eyes. As if someone had pressed the rewind button each and every incident leading to today came to her memory. Some made her laugh, some made her cry while some simply choked her up completely. She didn’t understand what was it that her heart was so hurt about – was it the way life had been unfair to her till now, the way she lost her childhood much before time or the way her first love ditched her scarring her forever in the name of love. 

Just then she reached the end of the road with a right turn only available that would take her to her favourite spot as a child. She remembered coming here as a teenager whenever she wanted to hear what her heart wanted the most as the quietude around silenced all the possible voices. She had to hear her heart today, she had to know what is that could pacify it and help her just be. 

After ages, her heart had started slowing down. Her beats kept getting fainter and fainter with every moment signaling that normalcy was being restored. It was finally between the abnormality and the normalcy that she realized what was wrong. Having been used to living her life on others' terms today she was afraid to make a move and live it on her terms. And her heart had already whispered its desire to her, loud enough for her to hear and make it come true. 

"It isn't the leap from being someone to becoming someone else that is painful. It is the letting go of the known to embrace the unknown that is.  "

Popular posts from this blog

Diary of a Lost Wanderer - Lost & Found

By
Image
Dear Diary, I fell in love with Mumbai when I first visited it in 1995. Bombay, as it was then known, fascinated me since then.  If you ask me what made me fall in love with this city, I perhaps cannot explain. It wasn't that I was seeing the sea for the first time. It wasn't even the biggest city I had been to till then. Still, there was something so magical about this place. The trip was a short one lasting less than a week but this city now had my heart. Years later, I arrived here all alone on my first solo trip in 2005 and fell in love all over again. I got my first job and was required to come to Mumbai frequently. The local trains, the chaos on the roads, the crowds, the humdrum, the salty smell in the air, the stale air- everything about this city was intoxicating for me. 
Keep reading »

Essay: How to mourn the loss of love?

By
Image
Image Source: Unsplash.com I remember the first time I mourned the loss of love was when I was eleven.  For me, dance was love at that time. I had discovered a strange joy as I glided in and out of those movements. Every time I swirled; I could feel my heart soar. Any beat that strained to reach my ears, tempted me to move my body to its tune. I just knew I was born to dance and that is the only thing I wanted to do, all my life.  I had my reasons to believe so and a very simple one at that. It made me happy. That was a reason enough. However, my father thought otherwise. Girls from good families, do not dance. That line was enough to break all those rosy dreams of dancing on a stage. The day my brother was sent to the same dance class which was not good for me, was the day I experienced heartbreak for the first time.  That is the day I mourned the loss of my first love- Dance. 
Keep reading »

Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love

By
Image
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer.  I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity.   “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.”   “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!” 
Keep reading »