Trail of a Waning Ballad

It was a long walk, I remember,
that evening was hard on me.
That air reeking of memory,
smelled of someone familiar to me.
There was no sound around, just
the two of us and our beats.
A twig cracked, a leaf fell, and 
slyly enough, time overtook me.

"Searching for a breath, are you?",
there was nobody around, just
the two of us and our voices.
With knees bent, gasping in pain, and
oddly enough, it stood before me.

"You can never finish; journey or a song,
leaving the rhythm to wander.
My rhyme was broken and scattered,
while you walked away into yonder."

It's resentment, eked in the verses,
it's melody detesting, and 
that refrain was strangling. 

"I knew not what were you,
your lyrics; likeable and unfamiliar.
I had you delivered to oblivion,
and yet you sounded very similar."

"Do you remember that time?", it asked
"that resonating friendly voice?"
"That voice has stayed", I mumbled
"and returning to it is not a choice."

"Neither do I", it retorted.
"You had some promises to keep,
and there are still some miles left,
but this is where you sleep."

In your shadow

These roads have changed. There used to be dust on the pavement and every morning while walking towards college, the dust would hide behind fog when swept into air by the municipality worker. Dinshaw Wachha Road had nothing spectacular for any passer by. Behind the college there used to be a tea-stall where many lectures were spent before you came along. Now, these roads are just dusty.

-"Would you like to place your order Ma'am?"
-"Oh, yes. One black coffee and a chocolate muffin. Thanks."

She reached for her spec's, woke up the bookmark from its resting position and brought the book to life, for a while. As she tamed those greying hair which were gleefully disturbing her sight of the words, the evening sun slowly crawled indoors towards her feet.

-"Could I rest at your footstep for a while? I'll be gone by dusk."

-"So long as your warmth doesn't disturb me," and she adjusted herself to a reading position.

-"Say lady, are you waiting for someone? Usually people come here to wait. Coffee, tea, less sugar, all the snacks; nothing fills them to their heart's content more than the sight of the awaited."

She adjusted her glasses and without deviating from the book, said, "You seem to know a lot about the people visiting here. Good job." Her disinterest was evident.

Like a young naive lover not knowing when to stop, he continued. "I'm up pretty early before anybody else. Throughout the day, I see y'all running to work and back home, lunching in haste, relieving in hurry and then there's this place where everyone waits. This beautiful paradox filled routine amazes me."

She continued her read, traveling from one page to another. Whether she heard him, he wasn't sure. A brief silence ensued only to be broken again by him.

-"Are you also waiting for someone?", he asked again.

She paused her reading and looked down with those eyes in surprise on his audacity and at the same time, acknowledging this honesty.

-"So we're having a conversation. Are you naturally this annoying or this is a social occasion?"

-"I've been around this place for a really long time. Everyday, I'm at my job, for fixed hours and pretty good at it. But sometimes, I'm in foul mood, at times in a soothing state and then there are times when melancholy sets in. And today, as I'm up there doing my work, I see you, and I see that melancholy on your face. So, I thought it might do some good to annoy you."

-"I do not have to wait anymore. There used to be a ramshackle in the back alley. It had all the time we needed for endless cups of tea. Sulaimani was his favorite. They don't make it with such care in these cafes anymore. The only reason I'm here is the solitude which I get with this black coffee. You might have noticed that one doesn't get solitude easily these days. It does wonders to you."

-"Oh yes, solitude. Yeah, I know well about it since I'm always with myself. I create questions and the answers come along. I also think about how the moon should be more grateful to me but then she's nice in her own ways. I like to be in her shadow, it feels secure."

Only coffee stains remained at the end and if one could look carefully, the evening was being reflected in those eyes, welled up as she watched time recede.

-"Say lady, do you miss him?"

Those lips didn't quiver, neither her voice broke in between, when she said,
"I don't miss him.
It is his shadow which I long for.
I don't miss his breath,
or his hands on my face.
It is the shadow which
sheltered silently, I long for.
I don't miss his eyes
smiling at my sight.
It is the shadow which
comforted solemnly, I long for."

The waiter picked the tip and had the table cleared. Night had befallen long ago.