I saw you last night in my dreams. You are the same radiant and beautiful soul that profoundly roams this barren and desolate world. The same woman I held once with in the cold night of Sagada. You possess those fragile hands, those deep penetrating eyes that are subject of my many poems about you. I saw you last night in my dreams and it pains me in such sweet abandon to know that you occupy my mind even the remoteness of my seldom imaginings.
Why is it that I cannot exorcise you and your face from myself? Why is it you keep on coming back like a tired black and white film? Why is that I desire you and your presence even if I know that it will take me to the end of all life even time itself just to be granted with that wish?
And yet I am still here consumed by your memory, burning with your fragrance, sometimes from a distance often without remorse. You haunt me more than restless souls will, lurking and drilling my dismal heart as if searching for things, for eroded memories I have long ago kept deep in my fleeting soul.
I thought it was just a sudden surge of feelings in a very cold and beautiful place. Good conversation, meeting of some sorts. But I was wrong. Now I know the answers. I found in that unfathomable place a special thing, the gift of the union of hearts locked in the sweet air of our breath… even if it is ephemeral, it is true and honest love. The right love at the right place but at the wrong time you said. But what is time compared to this? Love like time when properly defined loses its meaning, its purpose and logic.
Why am I doing this? You’re taken like you always say. Did I come in late? I know you feel the same. Strongly you said but certain things hinder you from letting it soar. Free without the usual boxes, labels and excuses. Then why am I like this? Why am I feeling this?
Hope. Like what I said to you before, hope the perpetual and radical optimist. Hope, the quixotic friend of love lost and wanderers. Hope even in the certainty of failure, of defeat. You asked, what would you do if you know that you will not fail? I countered back with the question, what would I do if I know I will?
I already told you the answer. That’s why I’m doing this. Ready to suffer the consequences like how a moth seeks the burning flame of redemption. I want you. To be away from you is like taking away the air I consume to live.
One thing is for sure… I realized through countless reflections that I really want you, even love you. Love you like how saints and martyrs have shown the way. Love you as if I am running out of air to breathe, of life to live, of time to exist.
Lastly, I admire you not just because of aesthetic and physical reasons but because in you I can share thoroughly my passion, my beliefs, convictions and sadness. I truly admired your sorrow and sadness for a beautiful country ravaged and robbed by its own people. Your sometimes disillusionment to our cause because it genuinely reflects how honestly you care and love our people.
Words are never enough to capture you. But I am writing with utmost sincerity, honesty and unsullied intentions. I write this not in haste, nor to rush you at things. I write this because it must be written and it belongs to you.
sashaninel 2003
I am writing this thing because i terribly miss you. Miss you in ways my heart cannot endure. i see beautyin a country full of lovely people and yet i cant helpbut think about you, write you in this great distance,search for your soul and clarity in this sea of greatseverance, want you and crave for you again and again. Yes you are right,India is a very beautiful place. But nothing compares to you, nothing surpasses yourrhyme. If your heart is a lovely continent, a lostcountry of beauty and grace, ill go back again maybe even settle there. Stay there not because i want totake over the affairs and beatings of your heart norto treat it like a conquest suffered by many nationscolonized. I want to settle and dwell in your heart because i begfor the nourishment of your sweet escape, to inherentyour time even if it is temporal, and lastly humblylove you, love you and love you.
My heart is like Calcutta and Mumbai. We share thesame beggars, we share the same want, needs and alms.We share the same longing and waiting. The beggars of Calcutta and mumbai want their lives and dignity back,while me, I want your light like how moths fall in love with fireflies. I long for your you, yes you,woman of countless words. I crave. I search and search for the captivatingredemption of your closet heart.Taking you away fromme is like taking away a very important piece of me,its like taking away a large part of me. I miss you very much and India greatly understands. last night it rained.//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Then i remembered you. I remember you and your smalland fragile hands. So small raindrops will wither inenvy.... so fragile, music of butterflies.
"Wish You Were Here"
Pink Floyd
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
