Quicksand…
I’ve waited, alright. My love made it my purpose and penance. I’ve watched seasons come to life and die. I’ve witnessed scenery change, and time run from me like a disappointed child. Where have you been?
I have met hundreds of faces, all smiling and yet, I hoped never to see them again. I’ve waited and watched if you were anywhere, uncovered and unseen like a rare, priceless diamond, underneath their naked lies. I was young and hopeful.
I hoped that hoping would make you more real than just a wistful longing in my mind. I hoped to find you as a delightful, yet destined surprise. I am surprised that I carried on long after even that glimmer of hope had died. There was no proverbial ray of light for me. Yet I walked. And I watched. And I waited. For you.
You are life. Beauty. Truth. The very essence of my being. You are the joy and spirit. I knew it when I blushed for the first time. I was thinking of you then. The awareness never left me. I’ve seen your face in every blade of grass that was touched by morning mist. I’ve felt you in the fragrance of spring breeze since I was ten. I wrote letters to you for years that I never posted. I tossed and turned in bed every night wondering what I should say when we finally met. I never was sure if anything was perfect enough.
Yet you were never there. Amidst the glazed eyes and empty smiles around me, I felt your absence more forcefully. I walked into it with my eyes wide open and felt like I’m home finally. This is where I belong. In your presence that was so conspicuous by your absence. When my heart ached for you, I felt strong. Because that pain was the sign of life. It was also the distance that was growing between me and the world – a growing wide abyss that echoed my voice back to me, which said, “Stop dreaming before its too late.”
In every single handshake and pleasantry exchanged, I have found the world wanting. I knew the soul that I craved so much to touch, feel, hear and see was not yet beside me. With each passing day, this realization gnawed at my body from within. Yet I held on. I lived with it. I let it hurt. But only so much that I knew I was still alive inside. And not ready to give up on life.
As I walked down the empty streets and alleys of this city, as I looked out of bus windows oblivious to everything else around me except the faces of strangers that crossed my periphery, as I stood in lines or waited in restaurants, I was secretly waiting for you. I was traveling, dining out, standing in line, walking to work, taking buses, because I was hoping you would come before me. For years I hoped that somehow your face would materialize out of the hundreds of lifeless faces, like a morning sun on a cold winter day, smiling at me, and in that instant I would have known that I was right and life is worthwhile.
Yet, it all seems so long ago now. So long.
The dull ache in my heart is gone now. It used to be my constant companion once upon a time. I am older. I am not waiting for anything anymore. I don’t know when I stopped. Or what happened. But I know dreams don’t make me want to wait anymore. I realized it when I no longer watched anything except the ground before me, and the very next step I would take so that I didn’t run into somebody. I realized it when I got off the bus and remembered that I didn’t look out of the window at all. No longer did the city hold any surprises for me. I realized it when I just didn’t care anymore. Just let it all be. This is life. This is me. I don’t know if I am happy. I don’t feel a thing. If you see me today, you may not even recognize me. I am one of the million lifeless faces that you will meet at a street crossing every morning. Walking, one step after another, marching to an invisible beat. Head held high, yet eyes cast low, secretly whispering ‘Sorry’ to what I don’t know.
