Custom Search

Tightrope Between Extremes

by Ananya Sarkar
(Kolkata, India)

Sometimes when the breeze is cold, I think of you. Sometimes, when the sunrays strike like needles, I think of you. And it's always in extremes. I wonder if you remember me fondly from time to time. Perhaps, when you feel desolate amid a sea of faces you wish me by your side. Perhaps when you take off your invisible mask at the dead of night, you wish I was there to hold onto for warmth. Maybe you refresh the memory of me by reading my poems. Who knows, maybe you have one stuck to the wall? And whenever your eyes settle on it, you smile for no reason. But what if you’ve banished my memory altogether? Mingling with the sea of faces in a different land across the seas, maybe you have no time for me. I may have well been a figment of your imagination. For all you know, I am unreal, a spectre, already drowned in the sea of oblivion. Even if you happen to meet somebody with my name, it slides past you. You don’t blink. You don’t pause. You don’t smile. The erasure of me from your mind has been complete. One of your best accomplishments. And you’re proud of it.


I swing between these extremes. And I imagine the future too, along these lines. What if you ever came back? Could I bring myself to melt the crust of hurt and look you in the eye? Sometimes, I see myself as falling in your embrace and letting you be a rush blanket. Stripped of words, we only gaze at each other, time sealing the moment. Maybe your eyes say, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere…” Maybe my eyes sparkle with unshed tears. But at other times, I see myself unable to recognize you. You’ve changed so much, both on the outside and inside. I smile, like I would on becoming acquainted with a stranger. We exchange pleasantries. When you suggest we catch up over coffee, I tell you I’ve got to go. As I get in the cab, I watch you in the rearview mirror getting smaller and smaller.

***

Click here to post comments

Return to Poems.