Conversations 

I constantly catch myself wondering if our conversations will one day seize to exist. 

That, one day we will have nothing to share, nothing to tell and nothing to hear. 

That, one day we will once again become the strangers we were a long time ago. 

It does not bother me that we will never evolve into something more. 

It does not bother me that we will never get to hold each other as we grow. 

It does not bother me that we will never be able to express our feelings in those varied overrated words. 

But, I live in fear that our conversations might dissipate in the vast space of oblivion. That bothers me.

And yet I believe that someday, in a small café or a dingy bar, in an unventured land we might accidentally bump into each other and begin again. 

Photographs 

Waking up in the morning, breathing in the fresh musty, chemical infused air that surrounds me after a night long affair with the pictures hung on strands of thread in the beautiful red dark room.

I run my eyes slowly over each and every photograph. Oh, the immeasurable happiness, the joy of a smile or the ache of the occasional tear drop frozen in time.

As the negatives change from monochrome to the wondrous colors of the spectrum – I stand there mesmerized like a child at the airport watching a plane take off.

A 10 x 10 room never felt more spacious. Each corner wrapped in frames that takes life in different dimensions. A story to tell, a story to remember.

Dodging and burning the photographs, I blink.

BANG! A hidious, unethical knock.

I squint, the red dark room is suddenly full of cheap florescent lights. I feel like an abandoned baby at a solemn, monotonous hospital nursery.

The strands of thread that once hung the slices of life; fades to white and slowly to nothingness. My 10 x 10 room now seems smaller than a coffin.

My eyes, red and heavy from lack of a good night sleep. The four corners have disappeared into large walls of plaster. The room smells different too – it feels clean, without any tales to tell.

Mouth stiched like an ancient mummy doomed to rot, I want to scream as I watch the photographs being sweeped away by the wind. Outside the window where they don’t belong, as I lie in the hospital cot, hooked up to machines that now, somehow keep me alive.

For what I long

A feeling of frustration resides.
Stuck in a limbo, do not know where to go.
It is dark, don’t know whom to turn.
I am alone and my thoughts my demons.
Empty inside, I want to feel something.
But, I don’t know what I long to feel.
The world around me is moving fast.
I can’t breath.
The coffin I am in seems to be closing in with every inching moment.
I am a fish out of water, someone throw me in.
Give a reason to cry. Give me chance to smile.
Words are all that I have left. I think. Wish I knew how to use them.
It is hard to chase what you can’t find.
I have lost my way, guide me to light.