I said goodbye to him today.
It was a pleasant farewell. He took his time and I took mine. We both looked away momentarily when we felt like and it was fine that we did so.There was a tiny tinge of woefulness in me as I shed my glowing tangerine for a bleak rouge. He sipped his tea in melancholy. I thought of saying something nice but couldn’t think of anything. It happens to me on most days. There are a lot of people who recite their alphabets the way they like it. I mostly like saying nothing.
I’m sure he didn’t say anything either. He was silent. Like we liked it.

My Own Prayer

Most days I make my own prayer.

I know quite a few from what we were taught at Sunday school but I still prefer my own.
For a long time now and on most good days, I used to begin with ‘Dear God’. Sometimes I would switch to Lord. Maybe it resonated better on those long and troubled days. I also thought that Lord was younger and cooler. God was more a senior citizen and played bingo with everyone. Though they both did the same job.

On odd zoned out days it’s mostly a Her. I then quickly change to Hello, respectfully. We’re just getting to know each other but on such days I’m almost lost in oblivion to go any further. Pointless. Then there are the days when I don’t know who I’m praying to and I just begin with ‘I’. Like “I think”, “I can’t”, “I’ve had enough” and so on. These are the impatient confusing angered days.

Often there are times when I’m muted. Either they’re all around or it’s just me. I find that rather calming that even they don’t interfere. Not that they get what I’m feeling cause I’m not really praying but I imagine them standing behind the doors and windows keeping it shut so that silence can enter.

Of late its been ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’. We’re a little more familiar with each other now and it feels like we hangout after rehearsals or while I paint or just sometimes over some chilled milk.

I offered beer but he said it’s hard to lose the belly.



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If there is a word that you very well know the meaning of, it is ‘Hunger’

And so that’s how I will write.

For a long time now, my soul hungered for you. And when it did meet you it felt satiated. Not satisfied but satiated.
Now that you’ve gone, this hunger that is reborn for you is unbearable. You would know what it does to you. It does that and a lot more to me. This hunger drives me fucking crazy. Nothing else is good enough. No words are sound enough. No other touch is caressing enough. If I don’t see you soon, it kills me. That’s what hunger for you does to me.

It kills me.


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