And it rainedout this November

This 9 Euro eye shadow still glows in my dressing table and in my utter mood swings it glows eyes too. This is special. This is November Again, which is equally special. 29 November days have already passed and I have been waiting for the rain like previous years. But all this month the sun shone brightly making me more anxious and apprehensive. The more sun shone, the more anxious and apprehensive I became. There were no any signs of rain. Where are the impregnated clouds with rain this November? Where have they gone? For me, rain has something special about it but more special for me are rare rains like those in April and November here. Some memories are hidden at the depth of sub-conscious and it lies there stagnant and safe. Thinking of deleting it? -Not Applicable ~ do you like to erase it – they are inerasable. This is the very photographic memory of yours. Alas! I never let you to photograph me ~ while I snapped you unconsciously through my eyes and kept you safe in my sub-conscious. Like you, November Rain also ensconces in my sub-conscious somewhere. What is special about November Rain is what is special about you. You both are quite synonymous for me that is to say you both are supplement and complement of each other.

People say and I try to believe but never can I on a serious note – “Every ending is a new beginning”. But when this comes at the very personal level the depth where it actually ends is never reached. It never ends until and unless one wants to end it. Trying to end is perhaps possible but ending it completely is just not possible ~ it always lies in the sub-conscious. I never let it end. Do you remember April? The month when we met for the first time, wasn’t it destined?  As soon as I reached home, the tiny droplets drifting away from the sky fell over my head and the very moment I receive a text from you “April Rain”. Your short text messages killed me seriously. As I read, re-read your text “April Rain” again and again, the color of my cheeks gradually changed. Something rosy and pink it became, heartbeat was different, sweet anxiety was so different. And do you as well remember November when the cold outside was so ignored as the cold heart was below any level. Yes, the cheeks were red, heated that day too – but with fear, dismay, terror, sadness, heart beat was so fast with fear – what will be the most fearful than losing you…Yes! Losing you was most awful. Like Sylvia Plath said “I thought that I could not be hurt; I thought that I must surely be impervious to suffering – immune to mental pain or agony…” I had thought similar but it was painful and fearful. I could feel pain equally just like happiness and love. But I never wanted this to end…yet with pain I exist~you exist~we exist.

This hustle bustle in town, these movements of wheels comprehend the move I started long ago. On rare occasion when you come flashing back in my mind -I put the eye shadow over my eyelids. I put you on, flipping them time and again as I feel you. You are there always in the dusty murky eyelids of mine. But when I turn back, I realize how far have I come. How strong I have been transformed into – in myself, in the poems I write, in my secret diary and most importantly I am taking up your hobby of photography. Do you know I try to photograph you in the smiles of those small children whom you were fond of always…How much you loved photographing children- wow! I try to copy you in one way but deep down I am reviving you in myself. In every picture of I search for the invisible you, you and I can only see the images of us in these children sometimes I come across and click them.

Aren’t we burning like a matchstick? One stroke over the stiff by taking it out from the womb of the matchbox –fire is ignited and we born and we burn and we burn and we keep on burning till we turn ourselves into the ashes. Yet my dear, past will never leave you. Past comes like a ghost. You are in my past and in my present as well as in my wild imagination into my unseen future.

But, you have transformed into UNCANNY. You have become an uncanny. For me these days, you are so known and yet so unknown at the same time. You are so familiar and so foreign at the same time. You are so near and so far at the same time. You are so intimate and distant at the same time. You are accustomed and unaccustomed at the same time. You are core and codicil at the same time. You are uncomfortably familiar and uncomfortably strange at the same time.

Ah! You are so very much mine and not at all mine at the same time.

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4 Responses

  1. Wow! A lovely read Sweta. From April to November, things don’t take too much to change!

  2. Thank you Sumedh 🙂

  3. Wow… <3… Dont have any word to describe.. It touched something inside me 🙂

  4. Thank you Upashana for being so lovely reader 🙂

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