Friday, January 25, 2008

'Thank you' cannot be gift wrapped

Your gifts always make me cry. Did I tell you that I opened the first one while walking back home in a light drizzle of a rain? How I stopped and stared at what came out from the tight folds of the crisp wrapper? How I was glad that the wet drops on my face could be called raindrops?

I know I didn't thank you enough for the Madeline, oranges and apples, each bite of which took hunger and loneliness away.

I know I didn't talk much when you walked me to the train station everyday after work.

Why are you so kind to me? I don’t know what to do with so much of it!

When we waved goodbye and I saw your car turn the corner and I realized that I didn’t have the keys to the hotel, I wanted to call you who'd already gone.

When people leave they should be let. Not that otherwise they won’t.

And then when I tried talking in strange tongues to another fellow-out-of-the-hotel-locked and we wondered how to wake up the neighborhood, why did you come back?
Some goodbyes don't mean a thing. And when we kissed each other in the dimly lit lobby, I didn't tell you how scared I was. Some kisses don’t mean a thing. And the same mean more than I dare understand.

I know I didn't hug you longer when we last met at the airport. A second longer and I couldn't have gone away.

I know I can never tell you I love you and how much. Because someone else did...long before me.

10 Comments:

Blogger Preetha Nair said...

You take me into some deep emotional territory ........
reading your posts are like emotions extruded from the frozen frames of life......

"Thank You"

2:27 AM  
Blogger Samyak said...

Thank You!!!

U're still strumming my pain with your fingers.

3:46 AM  
Blogger Poornima said...

Preetha: :)

samyak: Thats some nice music I must say!

4:30 AM  
Blogger one among said...

hi poornima,

read this couple of months back...your post brought them back ... a nice gift..


Some men give so that you are angry every time you ask them to contribute. They give so that their gold and silver shoot you like a bullet. Other persons give with such beauty that you remember it as long as you live; and you say, "It is a pleasure to go to such men." There are some men that give as springs do: whether you go to them or not, they are always full; and your part is merely to put your dish under the ever-flowing stream. Others give just as a pump does where the well is dry, and the pump leaks

interesting...yup!!!

10:06 PM  
Anonymous sonu said...

"When people leave they should be let." True to the core...

7:31 AM  
Blogger Poornima said...

OAC: When is that blog gonna be made public now!

Sonu: And when they come back?

8:46 PM  
Blogger Samyak said...

@Poornima: Do They?

9:49 AM  
Blogger aks said...

hey sweetheart .....tha last line.......it was amzing......and ya some kisses are strange....meaning a lot at times ....

8:21 AM  
Anonymous sonu said...

Poornima :when they come back ? ..
open the door for them..but dont close it ..let them walk out whenever they want to...

6:58 AM  
Anonymous Naveen said...

"I know I can never tell you I love you and how much. Because someone else did...long before me."

Ugh, your posts bring tears to my eyes, a broken heart that is mine.

9:58 PM  

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