#jaser rambles

ten years from today

will you remember to call my name?

Hey, I won’t be angry.

I hope you won’t be too?

Besides, who will we blame?

The strangers we became?

I think, ten years from today,

we’d be too wise to fight.

So may I ask you to sit beside?

And tell me how you’ve learned to be this quiet.

“Simple. I say to myself that I’m not ready yet.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready for all the wonderful things I’m dreaming about. Yes, it’d have been lovely to have everything my dear heart wishes for. But there is a time for everything. So until that time comes, I might as well make myself more worthy.”

“Maybe, it’s good in a way. Not everyone gets that time for themselves.”

You tell me, softly, that I’d need to move on someday. How do I explain?

I can only do that once I’m acquainted with a foreign language. That bears no memory of you. Otherwise, it’d be such a betrayal to anyone new.

Sometimes, I think, maybe learning to make tea is the key to keeping two people in love, forever. But what do I know about love or tea for that matter? I only know that when someone makes an effort to make something for me, I have it regardless of the amount of sugar or salt. It’d be a sin to find any fault.

Iktara or ektara, the one-stringed musical instrument, carries one beat at a rhyme, one dream at a time. Like an ektara, I only have a few words to say. I’m afraid it’ll take me a lifetime for me to say them since I’m quite hesitant and shy. But if I make an effort to say them someday, will you listen to me without finding any fault? Just like I don’t mind the amount of sugar or salt.