Tales Of The Present

For the last time, let's well upon the muddy alleys of our unconsciousness that kept reverberating the voices of our oh-so deep rooted inhibitions. Let's talk about how they shackled our hands to keep us from touching our dreams standing right in front of us or how they chained our ankles to stop us from stepping on the puddles of probabilities. We were to reach out for the stars that were invisible to the naked eye but such was the gravity of nostalgia that we keep standing on the ground amidst the forest of judgemental eyes.

Today,sitting here beside you and listening to your mundane excuses all I wish for is you to tell me that you are afraid, afraid to get trapped in the vicious cycle of deeds and consequences , afraid to admit that you are already drowning in the whirlpool of self pity. But I wonder if I ever will be able to be the person of your confidence , so I sit silently, noticing the way your eyes twitch while you try to explain the fundamentals of your existence.

Suddenly our eyes meet but you look away , and I take a long drag from the half burnt cigarette ; All the while, my unconsciousness scoffing at the allegory of our conversation .

As we start on our way back home I encounter a dead tree. I stop immediately, astounded by it's beauty. After recollecting my train of thoughts , I turn to my side only to find you gazing in the same direction , perhaps tracing the intricate framework that the branches made.

Neither do we speak, nor do we look at each other as we take the last few steps matching the melancholy rythm our minds were swaying in. You turn to look at me and move forward to embrace me but as if by impulse I lean outwards and take both of your hands in mine, smiling as bright as I can. You smile back and start walking away , while I stand here staring at your gradually diminishing figure. And all of a sudden it strikes me : what if it was all because of my share of inhibitions ? Should I have not kept silent today ?

But it was late, you were nowhere to be seen.