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Let Me Sing You A Waltz… Out Of My Thoughts

By Shweta Khare

Photo credit - Vijay Narayan
The dusky scarlet of nightfall dissolves into velvet inkiness and a distant star spangled heaven shimmers in my eyes. The throbbing restlessness of the city withdraws. It slowly retreats to someplace I don’t know. I can feel it relinquish its hold over the frantic; chaotic; purposeful urgency we call life. Every living moment, each dying second: trying to be a bit more. Feel a trifle more accomplished. Earn a little more respect. God! to feel loved. Hurried and rapacious…I don’t know to an extent of pointless necessity.

But in that deserted silence when the time stands still, I let my heart succumb irrevocably to a numbing calm. The dewy fragrance submerses my senses. The consummate darkness enshrouds my existence until I know not where I end and the night begins. A lonesome moon peeks through the silhouetted branches and its soothing silver is a promise of everything, everything beautiful. I see the drifting clouds alight in the moon’s splendor and I am free. I am free from the prying public intrusion. I am free from judgment. I am invisible. I am me. It’s in the 
dead of night that I feel alive.

A cool breeze carries the faraway rumble of heavy-duty trucks. From someplace far off, maybe where the world ends or from where it begins. I love this sound and I strain to hear its diminishing drone. Just then a car passes on the adjoining street. Its front-lights play a shifting pattern on the ceiling. And it agitates the gentle roulade of thoughts. Up until now the slowly surging and receding waves were a dimmed cadenza. But now you come crashing back.

And you shatter the sedate stillness in despairing throes as your deep gruff voice fills me and every fiber of my soul. I try to hold on to the fleeting glimpses from another life. Distorted, amorphous and evanescent - it’s a psychedelic blend…Possibly because I have buried you somewhere in forgotten alleyways, possibly because I have closed so many doors to the past. Still it’s so strongly reminiscent of you, that formless whirlwind of colors; heart wrenching and becalming at the same time. I pine for your familiar touch …and I close my eyes for a moment, I am there.

As I wander past those cobbled runic paths, your thoughts unfold from the deepest recesses. In a sightless anguish, in that pitch black; I feel my way to you. From one melting memory to another, from one breathless impression to another; I resurrect a heaven from embers. It’s in the even darker night of your embrace I fall asleep in.

All this time, you are like the night sky, so near but just out of reach. Are things in life so transient, so meaningless? The pitiable forever hopeful, hopeless in me refuses to accept …I don’t know…Maybe I was too proud. Maybe you were too prejudiced…or was it the other way round? I don’t think it matters anymore… perhaps yes we are two parallel universes, but I am not impossible to touch. Just so you know.

 

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Let The Good Times Roll Magazine is an online youth magazine
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