October afternoons can surprise you. They have a way of stealing up to you from behind. Cover your eyes with cold hands that smell of long forgotten weeds and wild flowers. It grows dark. You open your eyes to silhouettes. Like school kids in uniforms the color of the night. You hear her soft steps fading into nowhere. The smell floats around still. Reminding you of memories of times to come. Memories that have not been.
It's a little unsettling to see that your memories weren't, in fact, real.
So, you try and stand away from them. And look the other way. So that people( and you) won't think they are yours.
Sometimes, they will start crying just like that. Much to your embarrassment and horror. Children! Try and run away if you can. Not the best thing to get caught with crying children that you were trying to abandon.
Amazing. Amazing.
ReplyDeletefalse memories, fear of non-existent things. i have them too, y'know?
ReplyDeleteone day we'll talk about this :)
lovely how you express all that we feel but just couldnt find the words to describe.
ReplyDeletethe year has turned mellow now, and i am savouring every bit of it, even though i am cooped up in the house, chained to the computer, these days.
ReplyDeletewhat takes me by surprise, every time, are swiftcoming autumn evenings. quarter to five, and it's dark already. it reminds me of schooldays when i would come home in the soft enveloping darkness, stand about in the sphs courtyard in the glow of fuzzy yellow lights and the company of friends, watch while the world became mysterious, suddenly.
tor post ta khuub bhalo. it caught the flavour of what i have been feeling for some days now. it felt like when we were walking in that narrow north calcutta goli all strung up with lights and full of dhaksounds, and i was looking up at the sky and remembering a past visit in a dream.
thank you.
@ Kaichu: Not surprising. Because I too had the same school-memories in mind when writing this.
ReplyDeleteKaichu you really should write more, you know :)
we'll talk abt this later, because a comment space simply does not do justice to all i have to say about my writing, or not writing.
ReplyDeletebut :)
Writing poetry is something most anyone can do. but making even prose sound poetic can be done by very few.
ReplyDeletekudos!
@ Macadamia The Nut: Staying here in Calcutta, it's easy, trust me :)
ReplyDelete