On Learning To Let Go
On Learning To Let Go2 mins 1.1K 2 mins 1.1K
It has been one week, 3 weeks, 2 months,
6 months, one year, 4 years since you have gone.
The seats around the stage
Seem to be emptying slowly.
Friends disappearing to death
Until strangers are the only familiarity.
The rainstorms are no longer in rage.
The voices, no longer whisper your name
The land has started to blossom.
The trees have shed.
And after words had chosen to forget me,
Death, has filled my pen with ink.
I am angry. Angry that you have left me.
Angry that I am the only one left
To hold memories that we were
Supposed to hold, together.
Angry that every turn of the road
Reminds me of bike rides and conversations,
Angry that I am the only player
Sitting across the carrom board.
I feel you in the empty shells of human beings
Left behind to hold the memories
That we were supposed to share.
I wish I could believe in an "up there".
To believe that you were happy "up there".
To wonder if you were happy "up there".
There is something about people
Recollecting happiness in funerals
That makes it sad.
There is something about funerals
In the rain that makes it worse.
I hate funerals. Maybe because I hate crowds.
We never did like crowds, you and I.
We always met up in two's, just you and I.
Kind off odd to have so many people
Calling me to come.
A flood of people,
Waiting to say goodbye.
I don't go.
The birds are calling out from the trees.
They like hanging around their conversation,
picking up their food and chattering.
One little fellow hangs close to our upstairs window sill,
dragging his wings on the ground.
He likes the sunsets,
Watches them with a certain resign every night.
I don't know if hope is a gentle teacher.
She is the one whose skirts I cling onto,
Like a kid on the first day of school.
I know that's what got me through.
So, I will meet you again
As the soil, the grass grows on.
As we weave our stories together, in stories.
In the learning, the holding on, the letting go,
Though the forest and path are unknown.
I know I do not want to stay.
It is sunset.
This will be my flight.