The Very End


It must be somewhere else. Not here. Where love ends.
It must be someone else. Not you. Who says those words.
It must be a different time. Not now. For this to happen.
It must be a different reason. Not this. That you give me.

But then, this is happening. It has happened.
It won’t change.

The unsmiling crowd is busily moving.

The rainclouds are clearing.
The black birds are flying.
The rusty whistle is blowing.
And you’re rambling. Words. Syllables. Venom.

You’re not the man I loved.
I’m not the woman you loved.
We are in this together.
But there’s no together you say.
There must be. It must be somewhere.
It was there last week. When we shared popcorn in a lifeless movie hall. Among monotonous sounds and large images.

It was there when we joked about office, work and money. And laughed like family.

It was there when we met our parents and pretended to argue over the food I didnt cook.

Today is different, you shout.But why? How? When did it change?

I don’t want this today.Take it back. Delete it.
Let’s make a new today.
A new script.
A new chapter.
Let’s rip the pages off.
Wipe the memories. Kill the words.
Change what we’ve become.

Why can’t we?
Why can’t you?
I can.
I want to.
But then the time has passed you say.
There’s no turning back.
No stepping backwards.
There’s no rewind button.
It’s gone. All gone. Like life in Hiroshima. Like trees during Vardah.

My body doesn’t get it though. It whispers in my ears — ¬†“he will hold you.”
My mind says: ” he’ll walk in any moment. Forlorn. Needy. Desparate.”

So I wait. As my mobile buzzes with messages from all. Except you.

Time doesn’t fly. It crawls.

Life doesn’t feel beautiful. It appears gruesome.

I look around. The books are on the table. The tea is in the coffee mug.

The pink rose bedsheet is on the bed beneath me. Like it always is.
Only my lungs won’t breathe.
My legs won’t move.
My eyes won’t stop watering.
I ask them to behave.
I command. I shriek.
Love can’t be this dark. This sad.
This death-like. Even in its end. It’s very end.



One comment

  1. Yogesh Sharma

    Beautiful words …Very nicely expressed Chitrangada… Sums up about the love lost and the waiting …. Good work

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