Yesterday was only Today

‘Its over’ she said glumly and looked away.

I stared unblinkingly at the back of her head, wondering.

Wondering what? A million things. I sat their on the sand, by the Sea, waves crashing into the very inside of me, wondering.

I was wondering about little things in life; about vows taken, promises broken, about sad poems, broken hearts, dark chocolates, summer evenings, pink bangles and mushy stories.

I wondering about the dark brown highlights in her hair, about the coal black mascara than lay smudged in and around the corner of her eyes.

I was wondering about the pink-red color lip shine that glistened on her wet, half parted lips; her red painted toe nails, her golden, shimmering skin and her puddled eyes.

I was wondering how she could have said the things she’d just said to me.

I was wondering about love, or the lack of it.

‘You don’t even listen to me any longer…’ she was complaining.

I couldn’t hear her, yet I could hear the sea make noises behind me. Huge waves rose, like a giant desire, full of hot breath and silent passion. They rose to the crescendo that after a point, became them.

Then they crashed. With brilliance and vigor; ceaselessly, endlessly… hopelessly… they crashed without complain, making great moaning sounds, ear piercing, heart shattering. Then, they lay still.

At peace or simply silenced? I am yet to know.

I looked at her puppy face, still chubby around the corners. Strange, I too felt no discontent, only a strange lonely sadness. A sadness that separated me from her like nothing else ever could. A sadness that had only begun to define me.

‘You wouldn’t really leave me and go, would you?” I said, in spite of myself.

She simply nodded her head. ‘I would’ spelt the meek nod.

I tried hard to blink back the waves that were crashing against the back of my eyes. I tried hard to smile in spite of the storm that raged and burnt me inside. I tried hard to be the poet I was, or was striving to become.

I smiled.

‘Then I guess we have to do what we have to do, don’t we?’ I said as I began to rise. (Or fall?)

‘Yes’ said she and turned to stare at the reckless maverick Sea.

I offered her my hand.

She looked away, yet again. Maybe she was wrestling with waves too.

I bent low and cupped her face in my hands. I loved her talcum.

I stared into her puddled eyes, long and hard. I could see a story unravel there, almost.

I forgo her parted lips for something better. I brushed our noses, just the tips.

I know it sounds stupid but then that’s me. Yeah, I forgo a kiss for a brush of the nose. Somehow, that felt closer to me, more intimate. To me, that was the quintessential touch.

I rose up again and turned to leave. A sob came rushing forth from behind, then an urgent embrace, then, a letting go.

All this time, I still faced the Sea.

Today is but Yesterday staring back at me

I hate Cappuccinos. My wife loves them.

I hate them not because I dislike caffeine. I hate them because each time I go out to a coffee shop; I am at the risk of getting smothered.

I am a famous poet, writer, and critic and on that fateful day in that famous Coffee Joint, I almost got smothered to death.

Also, I saw her, once again.

The baby fat still clung to her rounded edges, only the blue Jeans had given way to a chic red chiffon sari. There were highlights in her hair, still. The lips were still red-pink. The nails were painted and skin was still golden. Only, the eyes belonged to a girl grown old.

She was sitting there with her kids; two daughters and a man I presumed to be her husband.

They were sitting there looking in our direction. We were a riot.

My wife loved all the attention as much as I hated it. She was reveling in it today.

I, for once was grateful for the mob as it gave me a reason to look in her direction without being noticed.

It was like a call for mating that she had to answer any way.

She looked in my direction and our eyes met. In some lonely shore a wave crashed like it had been bound to a jagged creek for a lifetime.

Today was the day for release.

Maybe I conveyed the feeling well enough or maybe this time she could read the story in my eyes. She rose. I could read from her gestures that she was telling her family that she was a great fan of this one writer and she just needed to get his autograph.

(The secret stays that she was never much of a reader anyway. Wonder if her family knew that…)

I could see her daughters smirk and groan. Her husband just nodded his head like he just wanted her to get over her teenage tantrums.

I could sense, even from the distance that spanned between us, that for this one time, she just didn’t care.

She began walking up towards me and I felt a familiar feeling rise up my throat. The back of my eyes felt threatened again.

She pushed her way into the mob, towards me. I stood rooted to the ground, signing hands, paper napkins, hand books, diaries… whatever…

As she neared me I felt my fingers open up and a parker rolled out of my fingers and hit the floor with a tink.

Like a wave in abandon, in unison we bent low. Her face was only inches away from mine. I could feet her eyes map the distance.

Casually, with great élan and sophistication, I felt her go the distance and bridge it.

I smelled her talcum, once again.

Our noses brushed against each other, only for a small fraction of a second… a second that flew and froze somewhere on a lonely beach, the sun setting on it and waves making love-making noises in and around it.

Like a vision that never came, she vanished. Next time I looked she was sitting comfortably with her kids, laughing her peacock smile and spreading magic, the kind that I loved.

I stood their still, signing my name, giving a piece of me to certified strangers.

My body belonged to then, my mind… it was miles away… wondering…

Wondering what?

A million things… It was wondering about time and distance, love and eternity… about yesterdays that look like today and todays that belong to some yesterdays, forever and ever…

I was wondering how important faces can blur in the maelstrom of memories but a whiff of lavender talcum can still drive the senses insane…

I wondering about this and that… about her and me… her and him… about all of us… about no one…

I was wondering because I wondered yesterday… I wondered today… maybe I’ll wonder tomorrow too…

I was wondering because, I wonder, still.