It was the end of another Ganpati. Visarjan. Ironically, it also was the last leg of of something beautiful that lasted seven years. It rained and we walked back from the Shivaji Park Barista. Like a moebius strip now it flashes back to the long walks in Pune where it all started.
'Do you have something to tell me...?' I was asked ... and now I think of Shubhada's words when wed parted... "Perhaps you could not see what was staring at your face all the while..."
In the end I had to see my absence from the pink limo to figure out that I resided in the graveyard of the vestigials. Kali the protector is dead. Hence absent. So am I—an erstwhile. I remember the now phantom photo well... looking over my shoulder, smiling with my hair draped over my back.
'Do you have something to tell me...?' I was asked ... and now I think of Shubhada's words when wed parted... "Perhaps you could not see what was staring at your face all the while..."
In the end I had to see my absence from the pink limo to figure out that I resided in the graveyard of the vestigials. Kali the protector is dead. Hence absent. So am I—an erstwhile. I remember the now phantom photo well... looking over my shoulder, smiling with my hair draped over my back.
In the end, it was just a non-chalant 'অনেক ভেবেচি... হবে না...' while it rained on. I stopped to queue up at the HDFC ATM while the footsteps moved into the night...
To quote my companion of so many happy memories "Stripped naked. It feels like they have suddenly been exposed, when they were least expecting it."
I remember (and now understand) something that I read (and ignored) my years ago...
'My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense...'
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