Well last night, speaking to someone I came across a poem I had written long back (Ok, not that long back. It was December, 2010 🙂 ). I had forgotten about it. But re- reading it last night, touched a nerve somewhere. There is something about that poem that just makes me smile. You know how when you are re- read things later and you look back at the time when you wrote it, there is something that made you want to write, a memory, an instance, a person, an event, a wish or something else – all that just comes back to you. It’s like time travel!
I am a Cancerian and I have the characteristic retentive memory of a typical Cancerian. So whenever I miss something, it just takes me a reading of an old poem or a letter and it all comes flooding back. I may not even remember writing about it, but once I do read it, I can recall each and every emotion and expression associated with it. Sometimes it’s weird, to recall everything in such vividness, because those times you don’t want to.
So if you ever feel like you need a remember a moment, a person or a feeling – write about it. Because there is no better way to preserve it. And when, maybe 10 years down the line, you smile because of the memory, all you’ll have to do is read. And you’ll be there, experiencing it all over again. And there is just nothing that you compare to the smile on your face accompanied by a slight tightness in your throat.
Only two weeks since he had left, and it was already happening. Time, blunting the edges of those sharp memories. She bore down mentally. What had he said? It seemed vital, suddenly, that she know.
She closed her yes. Concentrated.
With the passing of time she would slowly tire of this exercise. She would find it increasingly exhausting to conjure up, to dust off, to resuscitate once again what was long dead. There would come a day, in fact, years later, when she would no longer bewail his loss. Or not as relentlessly; not nearly. There would come a day when the details of his face would begin to slip from memory’s grip, when overhearing a mother on the street call after her child by Tariq’s name would no longer cut her adrift. She would not miss him as she did now, when the ache of his absence was her unremitting companion like the phantom pain of an amputee.
Every once in a long while, when she was a grown woman, ironing a shirt or pushing her children on a swing set, something trivial, maybe the warmth of a carpet beneath her feet on a hot day or the curve of a stranger’s forehead, would set off a memory of that afternoon together, and it would all come rushing back. It would flood her, steal her breath. But then it would pass. The moment would pass. Leave her deflated, feeling nothing but a vague restlessness.
~ A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini
So this is the poem. It’s about something past, that was good. And how, not having gotten closure about it, leaves a certain kind of mystery and a chance to imagine what might have been. So this is to that memory.
I Miss You!
It’s become a thing of the past
But I still hold on
Something makes me.
It’s like a stranger in the night
Comforting, yet unknown.
Standing alone thinking about it
It’s peaceful remembering it
A part of me, wants me to get it back
I may, if I try
But it doesn’t matter anymore
This feels true.
Things left unsaid, a mystery around it
Gives me the chance to try my imagination
And make it into something better
Something that it could have been
Something that I want it to be
Its better this way.
Looking at you from a distance
Gives me a chance to miss everything that used to be
I try to point out the part when things fell apart
Then something reminds me, it never did
I know when you look at me,
That you miss me
At least I think you do
Makes me feel good to see I can still affect you
To see you walk away when I enter
To see you still notice
You miss me, don’t you?
But don’t say it
Don’t say it and break the illusion. that might be.
Don’t explain it, don’t justify
I like it better this way
I try to hide that your presence does nothing to me
That’s not true
You know that
When you walk in, there is a slight ache
There are times, when I want to walk up to you
And just kiss you, to see you react
In my mind, you kiss me back
But that ain’t going to happen
Coz I am not walking towards you
I am walking away.
Come behind me, grab me
Tell me you missed me
I’ll forgive and forget
Never ask for an explanation
But then let it be.
I am in mood to write after a long time
Maybe its coz I know you’ll never come
That gives me the depth to write
As I haven’t written in a while
Maybe you’re the reason I am, today
So don’t come back
I like it this way
P.S. Thinking of you by Christian Kane is playing in the background. 🙂
A Cancerian 69