Behind the veil, a weary time ticks by…
During the season of mists, the western tide creeps up along the sand…
Too late to retreat,
I turn bloodless under the untrodden surges…
She shunned all human contacts and dehisced at his portrait which she had once syphoned with her own hands….
Her crux was smouldered with agony and hatred…. Her mind was staggered with bizarre thoughts….
What was her fault……..???????? Nothing, but still she was the victim of his insults…….
She went out and stood under the veil of drizzling rain…..the memories running down her veins……
Her tears mingled with the rain…. She wondered if he really loved her……
And on the other side,
he being a reckless guy, yet handsome and good, sat calmly at one vertex of the classroom, internally bleeding and deliriously murmuring her name….
Cause he had committed a blunder for which he wanted to apologize, if only she could hear his silent apology……
Dedicated to my friend Swapnil……