Turn the Clock

Turn the Clock

Today I saw your picture again. Standing next to some girl I don’t think I knew. But you had same eyes, same face, same hair; just a better body I suppose, but to me you still were my lame little “jaadi.”

I couldn’t call you jaadi anymore. I couldn’t call you mine anymore. I had to use your name to call you from distance. I had to stay formal, within my limits, even to have that one little glance of you. I never thought for us to be talking for hours every time we saw each other but when I changed my route for hundred and thirty-first time, taking it from the road next to your window, I saw you on my way. You stopped. And so did my heart.

“I miss you. Can’t we go to a place where things don’t stay this unfinished?” Oh god, my heart had so many things to say.

“Hey!” I managed to smile like an empty vein was running through my face. The vein which didn’t care much about her being around. Or, I pretended so.

“Hey! Listen. I gotta go. Later? Byeee!”, she said and raced out of there.

My mind always manages to play those millions of memories I had when I was there with you. Maybe that bond meant much more to me that it was to you.
Maybe it meant more to you than it was to me.
Maybe, just maybe, if the timing were a little different there could have been a different story to tell my kids to.

Precious was your presence and more it gets hollow, the more I realise that nothing fits more perfectly there, in memory pocket of my life, than you.

This different level of love manages to bring sparkles to my eyes not many people recognize. The one that is full of regret and love, tears and joy, salt of traces of that bond that, even after all these years, refuse to leave me.

Your smell still touches my soul even when an unfamiliar place goes by because that is how strong I keep you within me.

Life left us. Maybe this was how much destiny wanted us to be. But, my heart preaches a different sermon. It asks questions that I don’t have answers to.
Unfinished things hold a questionable existence. There is something that never was talked about. There is this separation heart doesn’t approve of, boundaries legs want to go beyond and love… Love that wants to stay inhere because it feels like home here. It has been here for so long it has nowhere to go.
This empty space that you left might never get filled, no matter how ever I move on with my life because you know what, there are things I never got to say. I never will swallow them. Neither will I vent them out.
But Yes, when one fine day while walking through a maze of roads when my path touches yours, in the middle of the very life I would be living and you would be living(hopefully very happy), I will ask you this, “Could we turn the clock, please?”

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Jinal Patel

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