Some nights, are just not right. They carry a bad vibe with them. But, moreover they carry helplessness. There’s just too much, and you cannot figure things out. I am not one of those people, who have been living with it for ages. I prefer to sort out. But, some things are better left untouched. But, some things should be mended and some thrown away. I don’t know. So, many ‘buts’ and various perspectives – screw things up. They play highly with a writer’s head. Because he/she is someone who has to present a collection of perspectives to the world.
‘City of Sin’ or ‘City of Freedom’. Amsterdam has been revolving around this dilemma since a long time.
The fall of that year, was much wintrier compared to the past years. Stefan and I randomly planned to take a short trip to the city. The city engaged our hearts as quick as a wink. Subsequently, we were a victim of the spell that maintained the city’s vibe.
Stefan had arranged a reservation for dinner. He went to get the rented car, as I dressed up for the date. He was dressed up in a formal black suit. He looked so perfect, that I had to put in extra efforts while getting ready.
It took us thirty minutes to get to the place. The table was alongside the river. Little buds and leaves were floating on the river. The old and colonial infrastructure, makes one feel delightful in a remarkable way. Lightly camel colored, leaves were all over the lanes. We ordered food and the jolly waiter poured some ‘stars’ in our glasses. I like the word, ‘stars’, instead of ‘champagne’. It adds to the mysterious nature of the city.
The food was amazing, but the weather eventually went to another level. We went over to a bridge and danced to the tune of the player’s violin. Then, we sat by the river and stared at the sky. Stefan moved forward and held me in his arms. I looked into his eyes and saw unbiased love. The moon slowly smiled and started playing hide and seek with stars. The wind took all my worries away. I could feel the present in my bones and gratefulness in my heart.
But, all of a sudden, my phone started ringing and I was not able to cancel the call. Alas! I realized it was a dream. I woke up, got ready and went to work. It has been a year since Stefan died, but Love never perishes it just transmutes into a state of pain, suffering and distress.
Gently reclining my back on the ground,
I took a quick look around.
The insects were bumbling,
and the birds were sleeping.
The wind touched my hair,
and a pair of eyes began to stare.
My presence woke him up,
and he asked me what’s up?
I narrated my day’s chronicle,
and he said that it was phenomenal.
He was dressed up in wine,
and was ready to dine.
He wore a sophisticated scent,
and spoke in a powerful accent.
while maintaining their charts,
tend to forget about art.
They do not like roaming on the streets,
but they like staying high on the tweets.
Slashing our upper storeys,
with sarcastically formulated words.
Feeding on our insecurities,
like ravenously hungry beasts.
Hauling us down,
to snip off our shanks.
Shutting our mouths,
and striving to slit our throats.
Between hating our guts,
and destroying their own time,
they end up nowhere.
A sugary mouth, isn’t the key to a peaceful lifestyle.Whereas, the kindness of the heart, can help a lot in unlocking the door.
Questions. It’s all a matter of questions.
Right quires, at awkward times,