Saturday | 11 January 2025 | Reg No- 06
বাংলা
   
Saturday | 11 January 2025 | Epaper

Something from the heart for the mind

Published : Saturday, 16 January, 2021 at 12:00 AM  Count : 1000
Disha Tananze Ekram
My sun and stars,
It is the season of you again. I can feel the west wind pierce my skin again. I can smell freshly spewed blood from a very recent gasty wound. It is only the dew reacting with the iron bars of the veranda, I remind myself. I open my eyes to see the rays of sunlight passionately undressing the light blue sky. It is all a haze. I see the morning fog descend. The sunrise will soon end. It is all hazy, my love, it is all hazy as I drown into liquid sunlight chained to the imagination of you.
Last night, I dreamed that I had forgotten you. You have no reason to be afraid, my love, for dreams are only but fantasy; you, you are my imagination. You are the knife I plunge within myself again and again only to die and be reborn in front of my sober, solemn and wretched reflection. The reflection, clinging on to the knife like a lifeline, refusing to let go against all sanity, all hope, all reason. But you are gone, my love. You are gone never to return….
I keep wondering if you have forgotten me. You probably have not. I keep wondering if you have moved on. You most likely have. I wonder if you love me like you did and I get lost. It terrifies me to think that my reason to live is a lie. Therefore, I refuse to believe that for I need a reason against reason. Often I think I love you like every other lover; that I would be delighted to see you happy even if it meant my own doom but I lie, I lie to myself as fate lies to me. On some, rare and cruel occasions I tell the truth: If a king were to fall in love with me and offer my anything I desired: I would ask for your head. Would you head lie too, then?
You had me in fits of meaningless joy a joy that is yet devoid of any cause but on the most deadly of situations, gives me the reason to live. I live to get a glimpse of that joy back again or even for the hope of that joy.
The world is cruel, cold and lonesome place my love but it is not for you is it? You are so comfortable wrapped, protected and cradled in the arms of your God. In the arms of the God you invited me into and then pushed me down to hell from where I crawled back to you but you, you slammed the doors of heaven right on my face. I still wait for you, hugging the door of heaven. I have been tamed by you. Tamed to such an extent that if you as much as whistle for me I will go running like a dog.
With you, I had meaning. Without you I was as lost as a blindfolded cow going round and round tied to a wooden stick not knowing what, why, where or who I was. After you came, if was as if I had grown wings and I had flown leaving everything behind with only one purpose: to follow you. These wings were not cut the moment you left. They took their time torturing me. They slowly burned with a light flames so I tumbled in the sky. They they turned blue, then purple, then bring red. A red so blinding me was a cow going round and round again falling from the seventh heaven. They burned like something I am sure is hellfire, until I was left broken, burned and traceless on the ground. The air dispersed the ashes that were my body until I was not more. I am no more.
It is funny; I always told you I wanted to be cremated.
It is not that I cannot live without you, I can and I will but it is human nature to put up a fight against fate. Mind you, I say fate and not God because if I say God I am afraid I might be fought against. My love for you if a fight against fate, a fate that does not care or even acknowledge my fight. It is just me in empty space throwing around my limbs with all my might fighting against God knows what; fighting for you: loving you.
You do not have to come back.

Yours forever,
Tananze








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