Somewhere In Her City By Kamran
After months of distance from her city, finally a day came when her mom called me. It was time to go back there. Although her city has changed a lot, her room remains the same. It still holds her fragrance, her voice, her laugh, and her tears. My Love:
I miss your curves on the mirror of your room, I miss your dimples, your hands, your fingers, your arms,your breath,your presence around me, my love.Now I am fine but you know that familiar ache of missing you.
After a lapse of time, I reclined on her bed, shut my eyes, felt my heart calming down,the world got quieter and I started hearing footsteps of hope. A Night spent in her backyard in the spring of 2022 lying down watching the moon and stars up in the sky when she said:
“Only we had the eyes to look through each other We understood that inside our fractured heart we all carry an exceptional magic to heal each other
You ask me about myself you want to know more but I don’t know how to tell you that the sky is my life some of the stars are my friend and the moon is my love and the night, it’s my home”l
The moon doesn’t leave me following me wherever I go guiding me through the dark as if I am its child and it is looking after I have been running after the roads that may lead me to finding magic that would fix me but only after I met you I realised magic runs inside me.”
Pehle Dard Tha Par Sukoon Tha Kyunki Woh Dard Tere Hone Se Tha Ab Bhi Dard Hai Par Sukoon Nahi Kyunki Woh Dard Tere Na Hone Ka Hai Jo Apne Saath Sukoon Bhi Le Gaya
In my deep thoughts I visited her house again . I still smelled her scent, a scent that will hit me hard but put me to sleep slowly after all these months. Her house is all the same. Some moss is there on the cracks. The parking area has totally been reconstructed, and her favourite pink scootey is still there, with her hanging hair band in one of the mirrors.
The door, I guess,is new and the wood is good. The windows are still all dirty and i saw freckled dusty reflection somehow, not worthy, but I am obligated to see mine when I peek through the window to see her.
I am not stalking her really. I know she won’t talk to me. She has always been indifferent to me and will always remain so. I just wanted to see her one last time before leaving her city. I know where she keeps her spare keys, know the password on her security panels, and know to open the house’s back door so it wouldn’t make that horrible creaking sound. But I won’t do a thing. I feel like a psychopath about to kill his victim. After all, psychopaths are aware of their actions and circumstances. I don’t wanna hurt her, nor wanna excite her. I want to see her one last time.
Digging up the past again I was ruminating in her room and came up with this:
Time passes, and try to sneak into view through her dirty mirror while her curtain blades make things even more difficult. Her couch has shifted places, a bit more against the wall. And the cabinet has lost its grandeur. It looks empty. Her favourite teddy bears, flowers, and some vases are there, but she isn’t there. Our love was there in a photograph. I knew she wouldn’t wanna remember them. As she lost love, she might have shown the photo the power of fire. My flight is about two hours from now, gotta hurry. She has no idea how far I am going away right now. Considering how distant we already are, this distance wouldn’t bother her. I Took a small piece of paper with me, and wrote a note for her. Under the back door of her house, I tuck it away. It didn’t have much. It read as “… to be continued..”.
