The Magnetic Separation

The lusture is your reflection. . .

The warmth in the eyes, on thinking of what it ought to be. The last string of a glimpse you'd always want to have. The words you wished, rolled slowly into your ears. The magnetic separation, as you walk away. Feet not heeding the heart. Fortified in coldness, Yet melting down deep within.

Even when you tread away , all I can hear is your footsteps airing closer. Few yards away, but hearts are light years apart. That hauteur, that lordliness in your gait reveals how weak you are in your knees. The world around you seems beautiful. The world is kind to you because you are kind to them. With watery eyes, you pretend to smile.

Trapped in grief , You can’t take this sham of felicity anymore. Knowing that my presence is incinerating the last remains of patience in you. You find a lonely corner to vent. I lose my eye on you. You return with your cheeks still wet. The moisture stiffens your face to a stubborn coldness. I look away knowing that I’m the only reason for your sorrow. I know you’ve made up your mind as much as I know I’ve wronged you. I know that the thread once broken can never be made to what it was before. I know that even if we tie the broken ends, the knot will not let the thread be as smooth as before. Defeat makes men fearless.

I finally gather the courage to walk up to you. You stiffen on seeing me draw closer. I hold your clenched fist and with fire stare into your eyes. You return the gesture with utter subtleness. We share the angriest of distances. Without an expression you ask me to withdraw. I hold you closer for one more moment, exchanging a wrath of emotions midst the madness. Then I leave, without wanting to leave. I blaspheme, without wanting to swear. I turn around and smirk, mocking myself. The hollowness inside makes me have no idea of what I want. Yes I won in life, but lost in You.

To get that innocence back on your face, to get back the rustle of your dress in my ears. To get back that fragrance vapouring from the warmth of your skin. To once more breathe the same air as you do. To once more gaze into your eyes, only to travel into the depths of your soul. . .

 

 

Why is it that we end up doing things that we thought we’d never do. Why is it that we are forced into believing, what we once thought was wrong. Why do we have questions that we don’t wish to have answers to. Why can’t we decipher the rationale behind the decisions we took earlier. Why do we lament what we ended.

Its only when you’ve lost everything, Do you realise the value of something. . .

 

 

 

Pranav Malhotra

Author's Note

wrote this note sitting in a chilly hotel room in Mussoorie when I was 18.
Came across it while going through my old diaries.

Reviews

[tuvi]

exceptionally good work for an 18 year old ... Well I'm not being age biased here ... but yes its amazing ...
its commendable how people write such good stuffs ..and I love to read and enjoy their work ..
I'm glad to have got the opportunity to read through your work !!

Good one Dude !!

Tuvi

[gabrielle]

I must say that the best essays/oratorical pieces i've read from this site were penned by you because as most (those that ii've read) tackled significant social and emotional issues we are confronted with. Like all your other writings, i like this one for the wisdom it imparts.

[Pranav Malhotra]

thank you so much, I feel elated by your appreciation. Thanks again.

[Leslie Philibert]

Fine piece of prose, I understand it to be a poetic exploration of a conflict..well done

[Pranav Malhotra]

thank you sir.

[Cursed]

I love this. It is a beauitful piece