We Would Never Know

I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. But when my closest asks, “Whom?” what do I say. I wallow in regret.



“What was it like to lose him?" Asked Sorrow. 
There was a long pause before I responded:
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said tome—said all at once.” ― Lang LeavLove & Misadventure

When the intense curiosity to know you and your thoughts subsided, a strange calm descended upon me. You stare at the whiteboard long after you are done with noting down the lectures and derivations. And I do the same, very much aware of your presence just two hands away from me. I feel my breath, taking a rhythm of its own as if it were trying to synchronize with yours. I don’t bother the awry puzzle that my heartbeat has become. Maybe this is when things fall into place.


How is it that we come across a person, knowing nothing about their story, but end up feeling so close that separation seems cruel, in just a matter of few days of shared space, and nothing else. How is it that we just know whom we can never forget how much ever we try, just through shared silences and non-verbal gestures. Unseen gazes seem surer than words can ever dare be. And how do we separate, how do we say our goodbyes, bid our farewells when we have not yet been introduced. How do we fathom to live our days ahead, not knowing for sure, who that person was, what their story entailed, how to reach them, and whether destiny would let us meet again in this lifetime? It’s just so cruel, so unfair and unkind, not being able to tell when we would share those silences again with the same person. Words may fade away in memory, silences remain.


I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. But when my closest asks, “Whom?” what do I say. I wallow in regret.


Elevators are cramped up spaces. I see you there, the only place you won’t even notice someone invading your privacy. You refuse to look into my eyes, as I clearly beg for attention. You never look at anyone’s eyes, pretending to be aloof, but you have no idea how alluring that makes you. You seem shrouded by a mystery, that everyone seeks to find out. You pay no attention, you ignore. Or do you just pretend to, while being as aware of me as I am of you while standing next to each other in an overcrowded lift space? I would never know perhaps. I would never find out.

Comments

  1. I loved every word here, Pratikshya! Could so relate to each and every word! <3

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Shilpa!! :D :D So happy to read that...

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  2. Ah - love gone sour. It can be so hard when one person falls out of love, while the other doesn’t.

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  3. Ah, there is such beauty in mystery! That emotion of wonder and longing that goes unexplained, it is divine. And you have articulated it perfectly. <3

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  4. This aches my heart!! Well written

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  5. Wow. This is surreal. You have successfully romanticized pain. I actually read it twice because of the lingering feeling of love and loss.

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  6. I can feel the pain of missing someone so close to your heart, yet keeping it hidden! Beautifully written!

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Queeristan by Parmesh Sahani

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  Queeristan (Amazon Link) Thanks to Audible Free Trial I listened to this amazing non-fiction on LGBTQ inclusion in Indian workplaces. Author Parmesh Sahani identifies as gay Indian, working closely with Godrej higher management and employees for years to create an inclusive workplace, both legally and in spirit. This book is a result of those years of experience, research, collaboration with individuals from difference spectrum of the society and organizations who has successfully transitioned into a queer friendly one.   Indian history is inclusive. From the Khajuraho temple architectures, to Konark to the Rig Veda, there is existing proofs even 2000 years ago of Indian inclusiveness of queer. It’s the draconian British law that criminalised it, which was scraped in 2009, came into effect once again following a sad judgement in 2013 and eventually was scraped off for good in 2018. I am in awe of the lawyers who fought this legal battle- colleagues and partners – Arundhati Katju

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