Steeped in nostalgia

For open spaces and teenage angst

for loneliness

And an uncertain but hopeful future

when the body felt strong

and capable

of the impossible.

Nostalgia

for chance encounters

and the unfamiliar spaces encountered

For the possibility

of new love(s)


Goodbye dear lover

Ex Lover

Friend

Ex friend

It was good while it lasted

The familiar feeling of the end

Is near

Once more it will be over

Once more

The hurt, pain and anguish of being ripped apart

Once more, the checks and balances will be counted

Were you unfair, or I?

Oh once more we will hurt

And promise ourselves that this is it

It feels harder this time

Tougher

Longer


HER

I look at her

Shiny, glowing, energetic

With lovely taut legs

And wispy caramel brown hair

I imagine

Your eyes

looking at her

Your hands all over her

Your lips seeking hers

I imagine

All that we could have been

Might have been.


I will reclaim-

The colour saffron, for its unreal warmth, for the beautiful heartbroken landscape that it grows in.

My voice, my language. Urdu, Hindi, Sanskrit, Bangla, Punjabi, English. I will remember that all these are my languages. That fanatics cannot take away the richness and beauty of it. It is my power. I will change it, I will transform it, I will learn, I will teach,I will sing,I will express and yes, I will think.

Arches and temples and domes and forts. The Taj Mahal and Khajuraho. You can’t take that away from me.

Dreams. The nightmares are temporary. They will pass like storms, they will stir and shake me up, but dream I will. …


I am uncertain, a little wobbly

Walking on water and then on burning coals

How can I be steady when the ground beneath is shifting

What do I hold on to,

When

Even my desire to see the sun

Is shrouded by a passing cloud

Be still. Something be still, be certain, be calm,be sure

Because I am not.


I need a place to hide today. Where day turns to night turns to day. Where time and space don’t matter, only I do.

I want words and images to curl up around me, with a warm yellow light. The feeling of watching a film I know I’m going to love, or starting a book and trying to read it so slow…so that it doesn’t end. I want that world to suck me in, to hold me, if only for a little while.

That feeling of savouring something for the first time is so precious. The risk of whether there will be love or indifference. And when there is love, oh it is beautiful, isn’t it? Discovering an author, a poem, a song, a street, a feeling, a conversation… and the underlying fear that it’s going to get over soon. The rain that consumes you now, will become a passing cloud soon. …


I can’t see it anymore, love.

That which would surround me, hold me, engulf me

It’s become distant

Untouchable, unpalpable.

No messiness

Only clean transactions

No longing, no lingering

Only arrivals and departures.

Sitting on the edge of a sinking boat,

Will we stay afloat?


My darkness scares me.

Pulls me in

Makes me shiver

I’m on the brink,

Of crossing over

I remember the delicious, drunken madness

The taste of the forbidden

The point of no return.


Dear old love, I got a glimpse of you again today. Walking down cobbled streets, smelling salty sea air, I remembered the promise you held. A surprise as I turned a corner- the comforting smell of something frying. Unknown alleys and half open curtains. Streets with exotic names. Sloping roofs and old people living in large, sparse homes. Sudden rain. Restored faith in the universe. Wishing, hoping and dreaming.

Words resting on paper come alive. The dream gets a little clearer. Just like in a dream, I am afraid that this too is unreal.


It makes me feel nostalgic for something. I can’t put my finger on it. It fills me with longing, with anticipation that something must happen surely. Fleeting raindrops, once rain, now moist earth and now the intoxicating smell of that earth. What do you hold on to?

I stare at out of the window. It makes me still, makes me dream, makes me listen to it. If only I could be a little like rain…dreaming, wandering, all encompassing, intense.

About

Aditi Banerjee

Dreamer. Filmmaker. Traveller. Design Educator. Curiouser and Curiouser. Lover of everyday things. Eco-nut.

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