Whirlpool

'You've remained the same...'
I remarked, after a long drawn silence,
That like a flowing river,
Kept the distance
Between two desperate shores...

'Really?'
She asked,
Dancing her eye lustrous brows,
And the long eyelashes,
Full of hidden humour,
At my candid observation;

'Only...'
I started to say something but
My voice trailed,
As I looked at her painted, glistening face,
So young and yet so old...

'Only what?'
She egged on,
The twinkle still in her eyes,
And the humour still playing hide-n-seek
On her slippery cheek...

'Nothing!'
I said,
Trying hard to sweep aside the rush of bygone memories,
Crowding every bit of my crumpled soul...

Then, she came closer,
Taking my soiled palm onto hers,
As if my palm was hers,
In the most effortless manner,
And murmured:
'You've been wonderful, all through, like a dream, only, I drifted away'
So saying, she stopped.

O How I wanted to steal a look at her face, her eyes,
'Were they brimming over? her lustrous eyes?'
I thought;
O How I longed to kiss her,
'Was she sad?'
I thought;

O How I wanted to keep her close,
To get the scent of the long forgotten memory,
Yet I lacked the courage,
Fearing another apocalypse!

'Why are you so coward?'
She asked with a strange fervour,
As if in a fit,
And shook my shoulders,
Trying to jar sense into something non sensical;
'Why can't you claim what is yours?'
Her voice pitched higher,
Like a shrill sob,
Stirring the silent stream
Flowing betwixt us...

And I felt dizzy
At the tumultuous energy of a rising whirlpool
Within me;
I thought
I would rather die,
In that whirlpool...
I thought
I would rather become
That rising whirlpool!

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