My confidante - rain

Dark clouds, with the rain, bring nostalgia.

Memories buried deep, in a corner of the heart,

Hidden from everyone, concealed from ourselves too.

Somethings you have forgotten ever existed,

The rains germinate them.

With the first drops comes petrichor,

The smell, it makes you a kid.

Deep inside, you wish schools get cancelled,

Only to realize that you now attend a school called life that takes no days off.

A hot 'cutting' is the craving now.

Rain gets heavier and thoughts get denser,

Staring out of the window, you think of her.

Nothing specific, just her, and the memoirs.

Rain aggravates the thirst to find the meaning; of that something unknown.

Tea gives way to a glass of neat scotch.

There is a rain within you, something you have saved for the dry summer days.

The rain within you, and the rain outside,

When both worlds collide,

Sparks fly out of the water,

Sparks never meant to be ignited!

Rain brings the desire for solitude.

For really you want no thought,

Just you, and the solitude,

And the blank gaze at the drops falling on your palm,

Then slipping out of your hand.

Rain is a person, unlike any other weather.

He comes, he destroys, he gives life…

Your wish for solitude is in fact a wish to be alone,

With rain, who knows all your deep secrets,

Because you have confided in him!

Memoires

Reorganizing your stuff is not always a pleasant idea, but at the end when all looks sorted and nice, it gives immense satisfaction and pleases the mind. Not always though.

Yesterday was that exception. I came across the little CD she'd given when we parted. Full of songs that portrayed her feelings.

I realized I'd been staring at it a long time before I decided to play it. Loud enough that I was swaying to the jazz and swing and 60s-70s rock and pop.

All was good till it came to the ABBA song 'Hasta Mañana'. Words are like stones, they can sharpen a mind like sword and they can also shatter the heart of glass.

Luckily, the feeling lasted only for the length of the song. Perhaps because following it was the mambo number 'Sway'. And all was good and I cheered up again.

Some more songs saw my desk and wardrobe all assorted. Some songs that made me dance, some that caught me staring into emptiness. But it was done now. And the disk was to be shelved again.

If not the sorted wardrobe, then at least the fatigue makes sure you sleep well. Maybe not as well as the idiomatic 'baby's sleep'. Perhaps because babies don't have to organize their stuff. Long since my mother did it for me.

But I slept well. No dreams, no nightmares. Good sound sleep.

I had slept alone, tired. But I woke up with her thoughts. Thoughts that could disturb the whole day, make it difficult to focus on your work. They were there, there I was. And there she was, far away.

I had thought I don't care anymore, that I didn't give a damn. But the fact was that I did. And it took just a few songs to remind me of that. A few harmless, melodious tunes but lethal words.

What can I do now? I better keep that CD shelved.

Have I told lately, that I love you. Have I told you there is no one else above you. Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness. Ease my troubles, that's what you do...

Perhaps not anymore. No more.