Of thoughts born in your absence

by Guest Writer: Myithili Hazarika myithilihazarika@gmail.com

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It is raining and I wish I could write under the light of a candle to you. Perhaps, neon lights speak and show too much; I like shades and light, they travel into every fiber of your nerves and jostle the sleepy spaces at the tips. There might be many ‘you’s there; you have to find yourself (I know you can and will; so I have spread out many of those).

The mind speaks too much, you know. Wish I had a recorder inside, to record and rewind. But then, there would be so many other things/thoughts which the mind has to say. I love them, sometimes... like now. Like how there is Beethoven and there is Mozart and there is you, all of us drenched in this rain, drenched to our skins. I can travel miles in midnights like this one.

I’m fidgeting a little... you haven’t called.

Oh my God... there you are... wait... I’ll come back... Let me talk to you!