I walked up the stairs to my apartment, swiftly at a constant pace. It seemed like a ritual now. A ritual that ended with me alone with my music, notes and sometimes a book.
It was a great day today. Mira is the best of listeners. She let me hold her hand today and I did with the utmost courtesy. So her presence has been lifting the veil of bohemian isolation for a while now. I don't know how long this will go on until we get sick of each other and I don't care to know either. Things are good.
I locked the door and placed the keys beside my laptop on the desk. It was a chilly day today. Huh.
I switched on my laptop and tuned into one of my favourites, phir suna. Gajendra Verma has always had a special place in my heart.
I sprawled on the low bed -which actually wasn't a bed, just a mattress covered in sheets. My eyes involuntarily drifting to the ceiling, I inhaled for about five seconds and that's when it happened.
A flash. Of her.
The one that got away. Too soon and too quick.
Like a breath.
I have had enough time to wonder upon the things that has happened in my life and it seems now that I only remember what I have lost. Perhaps, I am an ungrateful person but I thoroughly enjoy all my achievements. But, it's the night-time when I am at my weakest. All my guards down and each and every thought just gnawing, scraping at the rusty wooden door of my mind.
It's been a while since I lost her. No, correction. She lost me. Why do I always seem to get that wrong. Mira told me that my beloved lost me.
But at the end of the day, words are just words. And they are as futile as anything else in the night.
With an aching heart that longs for the illusion, I hum myself to sleep....
© Anmol