it's never goodbye

some frayed photographs
are among the last few
remnants of what was,
of where you once belonged:
to my world
that, and a handmade card,
with your name on it,
speak to me
silent verses,
full of voices,
that only my heart can hear.

is that all that is there?
for me to remember and share?
is there no more
than a faint fragrance
of your love,
no more than a faded shade
of the greying shirt
you wore many a time?

is there nothing at all
to claim that you once were
my dearest friend, my confidant and guide?
is there nothing at all
to dim that pain,
each time i remember
your words,
the many lessons,


there is nothing perhaps,
than a searing memory,
and
eyes that well,
each time i see those photographs and
handmade card.

and yet, sometimes, i see
that beautiful face,
come upon the mind's eye
as if to tease the heart
into believing
the nightmare will turn sweet,
that you will walk
into my door one day

the doorbell rings...
my heart rushes to open itself
the mind laughs at me,
such a child i have become,
since you have gone...



written now. 3rd death anniversary of my father. couldn't make it to bangalore. and the thought hit me. suddenly.