seasons
change
time
flies
and people leave.
however
every year
without fail
it rains
no
it pours.
everywhere
raindrops
unbiased
touch every soul.
not alike,
because some
of us
refuse to
let it touch us.
from the monsoons
in mumbai
to her
nothing has changed
she became a constant
from within
to without
nothing changed
even when
she moved half a world away.
but you did
oh, why?
tell me
why is it that hard
to continue being there
for someone
who never
stopped
being there
for you
communication
through a screen
is.harder.than.it.seems.
online.
offline.
blue ticks.
enable.
disabled.
“did you even read my message?”
it pours
lies
excuses
and more
my phone–
died
crashed
fell
broke
tore
got lost.
the raindrops
incessant
they know
the truth
i didn’t have time
time to
make it
break it
face it.
well, it is time we fixed it.
when it pours
it could flood
disrupt &
make its presence felt
establish that bond.
because
distance
has no
fixed convention.
it didn’t mean anything
before
so why
does it
engulf
bother
worry
you
now?
it happened once,
it is likely to happen again
it takes
more
time
energy
effort
to fake it, than to face it.
i see puddles now
and in them
a glimpse
of what could’ve been
had i given in to it
so i do
the next time
when the first
droplets fall
i abandon the umbrella
to choose mutual vulnerability
over selfish safety
trust fall
into her arms
the arms
that will and can
protect you better than your own.
challenge
distance
myth
time
the season comes and goes
sooner than you think
within a blink.
[ऋतु के लिए]
