Listen,My eyes, my sleepless eyes, are busy dreaming. They are indulging in criminal fantasy. And wouldn't pay a heed to me. I have tried. Yeah sort of. My mind too is somewhere else. It is very close to you. Run your hand through the air around you and you are sure to find it. Keeping an eye over you. Waiting, for you to find it. It is just my heart that is here with me. Writhing. Missing you so much. My heart has remained faithful, it is the repository of my painful memories. It wouldn't betray me like its brethren.
This time around I am serious. Pretty serious. Otherwise an escapist, for the first time in years, I want things to fall into place. May be we could take the risk of heart-break, one last time. May be, we could, once and for all.
Until yesterday, I was playing along. I was having some fun. Your advent in my life was a welcome escape from the sterility that had creeped in, in my oblivion. I had noticed some changes though. Colors emerged from amongstmy world of black, white and grey, and made themselves visible. Smiles frequented me oftener. And I had more secrets to keep to myself. Some tiny infatuation, I will get over, you will get over. Some tiny infatuation, you and I will laugh at, sitting in far-away places. I wouldn't look for your face in traffic junctions and crowded malls. I thought so, until yesterday.
But something happened last night that hovered inside my mind for sometime, because I let it to. Because it gave me a rare nice feeling. Later when I tried to catch some sleep, sleep helps me get over the worst of hang-overs, sleep eluded me. The rare nice feeling refused to leave, the premises of my conscious. In the morning, the hang-over was still there and I was smiling like a fool and thinking about that something that had happened.
And I couldn't just play along, anymore. I got a trifle more serious. Even things inconsequential decided to have a meaning. Moments hung on to me, like dew drops hold on to the green on leaves after a maiden monsoon shower. They reminded me of you. Possibilities asked me questions, about us. I felt shy. Yeah, believe me. I even blushed. And I waited to meet you again.
February is here again, this Valentine, you wouldn't send me roses, I know. Nor would I gather my guts to wish you on your face. But be sure, try to listen to the mist hanging in the air on the morning of Fourteenth, you'll be able to listen to my so muted wish.
Are you listening, anyway?