I closely investigate the question. It remains unanswered,
is my world shrinking too fast? I could see, a gray friendless
space, tears pooled at the curve of two flattened breasts.
Would all those trips, when I watched the sun sinking deep
into a pencil-thin border line behind the fields swaying in
the evening breeze, be left as post-cards with no messages
on my table? I planned to buy nautical blue-colored curtains,
cream-colored soft pillows, a crackle glass shades lamp
in the corner, just like the one I saw in his bedroom and
some other things for my world. I would have loved to rest
my head against the wall I painted in bright Oranges and
lemon yellows. My window opened into the night would have
turned its head to the steps of a tired looking woman in
high-heels coming down the walk. It would not have minded
giving coffee in a ceramic mug with yellow flowers printed
on it, to the emptiness that drifted in along with her body.
So much, I wanted to do. You see, my life is too dull, with
no events. The weekend crowds would have whispered over
foaming mugs of beer, there she goes after work, to her car,
gives a brief smile at those leaves fallen around, a brief flash
of her thigh as she bends on her knees to collect a few for her
book, goes for a brief shopping to get a fresh loaf of bread,
a pack of Italian pasta. She, without fail, would put the pasta
in a bowl, then add the tomatoes, milk, olives, grated cheese,
chopped sun-dried tomatoes and thyme, for her Sunday breakfast.
I wanted to fill my days in my world with simple things. Just
a theory of nothing much. The other world I want to sleep with
someone has never gone beyond the breakfast table. With no much
regret to report about the world that slipped from my hand, I
wanted to dress up my little world, I wanted to feel how beautiful
it would be if I space and design it with my hands, a friendly
invitation for crickets chirping in sync on warm summer nights,
to sneak under the crisp sheets, huddle close to me, anxious and
unmoving over a story : A shrinking world.

* Every line of my thought is drenched with tears….I went about this with tear-swollen eyes.

Nelly Furtado “Say it right” stayed with me as I shut tight a short and ‘tear-drenched’ night. Well, of course, Abhi was with me. R tried to cheer me up, Barb tried to understand it. {the link :youtube=}