The words in my head wish to enter the domain as titled above though it has long been evicted from my: I, me, and myself.
It was a crazy Monday at midnight, when I received his note with a captioned subject, “Be mine - once again.
“Shriman Ji, You must be an unhinged insane!”
Deleting a thousand similar messages post our separation – to have me back – I got into a nasty habit of deleting any message that made my device smell of rot. I processed my mind to nd an appropriate trash bag to dump the
lth with a graceful decline NOT to enter my territory anymore. Period...
“I am not writing a response to your beautifully layered note. I use the word beautiful - not for the one who wrote it but for the syntax that once engulfed me and later had me remove the cover of its beauty when you spewed venom with the same intensity – ages ago.”
Between the two extreme poles lies the time that had us bound forcefully.
I am sending you a song – to tell you with what audacity you threw open the gates that I closed since.
Now, I am a new me.
I held restraint, but this piece could not elude my eyes. It nudged my fingers to be on a QWERTY pen. Here I go!
Hello Ex - to define all the bands of fake jewels that decorate your imperial orb may not be possible at the moment, but I have been impressed by everything you wrote.
I wish you had the same thought when I got your pink slip, and I ran to my neighbours with my toddler clinging to my chest - for a night shelter.
Read. Repeat. Read. Repeat. Thanks!
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