The Winter

Maybe I should fly south with the last flock and stay away from the winds.

Yesterday, in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of my windows banging in the storm. The moon stood there alone outside, caught in a tree and lost in his own thoughts. I shut the panes and did not disturb him. I took solace in the fact that he was still around, even if not necessarily waiting for me anymore.

I drew the curtains and returned to my bed. It had turned to stone – hard grey granite that offered no consolation. Maybe I should have let the windows crash on the walls and die on their own. Perhaps, the bed had a right to be vindictive.

I got up again, moved out of the house to my wilderness and went over to the lake. The night was blue and the moon lit the path and flanked it with fireflies. I went close and sat on a wet stone. The reflection was misty and the water stood still. It withdrew itself as I tried patting it. I guess it knew that I was the one seeking refuge and was not there to offer any comfort. It saw through my selfish intent and shun away.

I felt desolate, abandoned. I couldn’t think of any other place now. I would have come over to your place had I not met you earlier in the day. You no longer seemed to be the person I once knew. It was as if you had leased out your being to some new tenant. Someone else looked at me through those eyes now. It wasn’t you anymore.

I had stopped by your kitchen this morning. I wanted to fill my lungs with the smell of fresh hot bread from your oven. I wish you had spared me a loaf. I kept looking through the window as you sat and served your invitees at the table till the last crumb was wiped clean. I bit my lip and drank the little drop that oozed out of it and returned home.

Maybe it is the season, I can’t say. The trees are barren and the wind is hollow. There is ice in your smile and certainly my words don’t melt your heart any more. Your touch is layered, covered by multiple sheets of fabric & fleece yet your fingers were cold as I shook your hand. The fog made it difficult to catch your movement and I can’t really pinpoint when you actually turned around and faded into the mist. I think it was when I wiped the snow flakes off my eyes.

The winter is here finally and I think I know that it won’t go away now.