Between Dreams, Life and Memories…

The shades of winters fade as spring takes over declawing the cold wind and forcing the Sun to take over the reigns of the days once again. I would have poured this evening in my glass and sipped on it one hue at a time but for the fact that I have done this before, perhaps several times before in an unknown previous life.

Time flies. Colors don’t intrigue me as they did a decade ago. It’s time to assemble all that still remains white. Sanity will give away drop by drop, drain me and render me useless. I had lost the urge to fight years ago. I will soon give up any odd shield I have been holding so far. You can come and pass your dagger through my heart then. I will make it easier for you by getting down on my knees and holding still.

Drop me in a stranger’s grave. Do not mark it with a stone. I came without a name and that is how I should leave. Those who knew me in this life time will cease to remember me eventually. I was someone’s son, someone’s kin, someone’s father and a piece of someone’s broken heart – bury all those names with me and liberate me from all baggage. I will travel light like I have always liked to do.

I will pay for the promises I made. I will do my time, toil and clear my debts but I will not carry a load on my head. My provider gave me enough while I lived. I will not let him down. I will walk up to Him with my head held high and will claim his mercy. Hopefully, he will not make me do this whole cycle again. I died a multiple times while I lived. In my death, I will live forever.

I watched you from a distance when you wiped that last tear off and realized you were hungry. I smiled and waved at you and sent a little gust of wind your way to blow your hair and ruffled them just the way I always did. Your pain is tied to just a symbol of me – the body who you knew. My love for you will reach out to the real you; the one you will always be and it will ease and melt that mountain of pain in your heart.

If dreams were the gateway, we would have met at a corner ages ago but they are just remnants of a soul that continues to smoulder and release sparks that knock the doors of our lives and are lost before the door can be opened. The dreams continue to live in a realm and space outside this life and I no longer hope to chase or realize them anymore. Read them out as bedtime stories for your grandchildren perhaps. Tell them that once upon a time there lived a man, who lost his bag of dreams in a street called life.

There is a fuzzy line between the dreams and memories. Over time, one gets crushed under the immense weight of memories and they then start appearing more and more distant and soon transform into a hazy dream that you tend to forget over the course of the day. Perhaps the load of my memories is greater than yours as I don’t tend to forget anything. Maybe someday you should come and share my load and shoulder some of it. The waves lash back at times and spray the salt in my eyes. When I get washed ashore, come down and get me before I get pulled back into the ocean and be lost forever.

For now, find me around the corner sitting under the shade of the tree we both planted when we were young and without a care in the world. I will be there, watching clouds dance on the clear blue sky.

Like the odd eagle between the clouds, I will soar till you come, call me and take me home.