Jiji

Thought to say hi to people who read my work to connect to other places.

Love music if you wanna see what I'm tapping my feet or yearning check out my Spotify.

The earth is rotating,

a person who you once knew dearly, is now merely a memory.

Instead of taking it personally, know that it is rather a liberating fact.

We aren't meant to live our lives as straight lines.

If there's a hole in the path, you've got to change it.

And if you were just a straight line. That's would have been end of you.

So, know that people are more than just straight lines.

Know that people have a story to tell

they have secret rooms locked within themself.

And that they regret, and the grieve

so know that people aren't a side character in your movie.

They've got their own story to maintain

their image of u, is just a perception of you in their mind.

And Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "People do not seem to realise that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character."

I've absorbed this thought and try not to take things personally.

If to forgive and forget is a blessing, then i've truly been blessed.

What's dead is dead. Trees don't hold on to dead leaves.

So why do we keep on holding to dead conversations and dead memories ? Know that what's gone is gone.

Also know that you shall forget you were once late to the class. You shall forget you were once stuck in traffic. You should forget the reason you stopped talking.

The moment that you'll turn 24 , you'll forget that yesterday was 23.

Also know you too shall be forgotten.

So try to live in now , and try to be a little kind.

The narrative of the story is this;

I wait for you and you do not return.

The clock in the living room draws closer to 8 pm

You're usually home at this hour.

I have prepared dinner for two.

I did make your favourite dish today.

As always it gets lonelier the moment you leave for work, mornings go by in the hurry to send you away, making sure you never go on an empty stomach, I am not usually hungry this early (I was full when you bid me goodbye with a kiss) I want to go with you wherever you go, I have no hobbies that keep my mind off of you, I am tired and I want the time to stop for a while so that the night is long and I have you to myself, but that's just a selfish little wish, lately you have been occupied.

As for me I haven't washed the dishes, two plates sit on the sink.

I have done the other chores, I watched the new episode of the drama, I wrote in my diary, I went out to get groceries for dinner, I prayed, and the loop repeats but it's lonely, it really is.

I've spent half years of my life this way, it's always been me by myself, when it gets closer to dawn it gets lonelier, sometimes | am scared of this place so I leave all the lights of the rooms turned on when it hits closer to 6 o' clock in the evening, but I do not mention my fears to you because I cannot bear to trouble you with my inconvenience. It gets closer to dawn and it gets lonelier, so I have nothing to do except wait for you.

I know this is all for us, but I cannot help but wonder if you could keep your heart away from work for a moment and look at me next to the monitor screen that you stare (I've kept your tea on the table) (Please don't stay up working too late) (You must be tired) (It's okay) (It isn't always like this)

(Work is getting busier I know)

You're not home yet.

I am wondering if you're working overtime again, you did not pick up my call. So I wait.

And not disturb you too much.

It's way past 8.

The dinner is ready on the dinning table

I am not hungry enough to eat by myself the only meal we share together. So I wait.

Maybe I should wash the two plates on the sink till then, but I don't.

And I wait.

The waiting turns into sadness into hopelessness, this is it.

I wait for you and you arrive late. Right?

"Where are you?" | text.

"Come back home it's too late"

I pick my cellphone to call you again even if I am disturbing you now.

Although I did not call more than thrice but I am sick of worrying.

Someone receives the call this time but not you.

Words never come out of my mouth.

And my tongue does not move an inch.

Should I have washed our dishes so you would come, so you would return, should I have troubled you with ten more calls so that you'd be annoyed and answer a single.

I wish you were late instead, I wish you were too late that I grew sick of waiting, I wish you were here at all at the end.

I received the flowers you were

bringing back home from work. They were in terrific condition. My heart sinks into nothingness.

The smell of the white lilies creeps up to my nose. With a faint scent of you.

I notice the flowers crushed a bit and crampled up.

I read the little note I found crumpled under the flowers weight.

"Waited too long? Sorry I am late, I love you okay?"

My dearest, my wait

Muskil thi taab-e-Deed Magar dekhte Rahay.

Unki Hareem-e-Naaz Kahan Aur hum Kahan.

Naqsh-o-Nigaar-o-Pardah-o-dar-dekhte Rahay.

Naqsh-o-Nigaar-o-Pardah-o-dar Sab Faraib tha

I used to love

September, but now it just rhymes with remember.

It was September.

In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason.

You've let your guard low, sharing worries that burden your soul, while your mind is dizzy with overdose

Shoulders heavy with secrets I've yet to know,

The noise of the world that hides the melody of the daylight, the world has yet overthrown the

last hopes of a lovely evening with you

I imagine you drinking tea while you eat the cookies I baked and reminisce our old days,

and tell me where it hurts tell me how much you were exhausted But your favorite matcha tea has gone cold

The books you bought to read that you've barely touched

You're busy with work even after you return home I wake up to find you gone, the dim light is turned on it casts a warm shadow in our living room.

You're working late, yet, again, hiding and sneaking.

limagine us sitting in our car, Midnight drives, music we've never heard, You lean on me, just a little.

As little as the time between a flinch and relief

A fleeting glance, a gentle touch, A language only we understand.

But our distances grow, the world wears us down.

You conceal your struggles, hiding behind

Forced smiles and weary eyes.

I pretend to sleep, while you sneak out, Leaving soft kisses on my cheek.

Your affections, once vibrant, now wither Like autumn leaves that shed their final pity.

Your touch, a caress of regret, Eyes that betray yourself That tell you out Like playing hide and seek

But I always seek you and never find

"Don't worry about the bills," you say, But worrying's all I can do.

The world's cruel ways won't cease, Yet we weren't always this indifferent.

Young lovers, who had lived their lives to the best passionately slipping into an abyss

I envision you, hands wrapped around my waist, Head resting on my chest, shedding a silent tear.

In that moment, no words are needed;

Understanding flows like a gentle stream.

You know of me, and I know of you We ease into our embrace

No worry weighs us down to its depth

There is duty there is company

But nothing seperates

In a universe where I am no longer sick

I tell you confidently For better for worse, for richer for poorer in sickness and in health,

And I imagine you crying at the vows I picture your face crying at all, At the end, even at this very last breath I still couldn't see, you; vulnerable on your knees the autumn leaves shed, but not a tear from you till death do us part...

Death that is closer to me than you are.

just so that you can build them again with thicker ropes.

Hurt all the people you love

and then commit every felony to win them back.

Drown yourself in bleach until not even Heaven's light can compare to how bright you can burn.

Turn yourself inside out

and paint your organs the color of what you see in your dreams.

This is the art of

living with a ticking heart — a grenade you throw through windows to make a point that language has no room for.

This is how I destroyed you. And this, is how I kept you alive.

Dig yourself a ditch, six

Autocorrect still spells your name.

I believe the Internet knows how to love relentlessly more than anyone else, how to keep grasping what wants to leave.

Don't delete the data. I like dreaming of our information still floating & holding hands while we both sleep.

Any algorithm of delusion is better than weeping.

Emojis make me reimagine grief, its tiny picture.

Do you understand? My heart, it does not feel safe. It feels as though it has the tip of one hundred knives pressed against it. One wrong move and it will be sliced to pieces. So it beats ever-so quietly. Loves you ever-so silently. It buys you mangoes. Kisses your cheek.

Reaches for your hand but does not grasp it too tightly.