Art of Missing

Art Of Missing Blog Post Author: Kleio B'wti ©www.wakenshine.com, 2017.

"Not seeing you is like not breathing. I see dead leaves everywhere. The red rose looks black and crumpled to my eyes. They pain, yet no tear runs through these dry sockets I use to see the world with. The delicious smell of yours that makes my world fragrant is now an odorless, clinical place. I wish I could run these miles in a second and you could glove me up with a surprised glee in your strong arms. Maybe, I am talking too much. I am not sure, though, if these three simple and overly used words would communicate what I truly feel.

 

Yet, I shall try-I MISS YOU!"

 

Alone, bereft, emotional, sad, insomniac ache are the symptoms of throbbing for someone’s presence. Some compensate ‘missing’ with ice-cream, hot chocolate, some cake or pudding. In other words, they replace the absent individual with calories devouring comforting food. The number of people hitting the pubs and drinking themselves insane, usually attribute the impulse to the 'Act of Missing' someone they love, as well.

 

As Jeremy Sherman has pointed out in his blog, 'missing' isn’t always being sad.

 

Giving up something unwanted or unpleasant 'a miss' does sound like a wise choice sometimes. Most importantly, when someone becomes a part of one's environment, he/she ends up influencing the other. Humanity is about connections- good or bad ones. When something good exits one's immediate universe, it pains, yet when an unpleasant stimulus gets deleted from one's vicinity it brings a reprieve.

 

Yet every wise man, poet or philosopher ends up ‘missing someone badly’. Poetry on longing, unrequited love, betrayal, the guilt of deception, reminiscence, and longing are different shades of nostalgia dealing with the central omitted emotion that binds the poet to the cherished.

 

A fragment from 'My River' by Emily Dickinson goes like this: My River runs to thee. Blue sea, wilt thou welcome me? My river awaits a reply. Oh! Sea, look graciously.

 

She makes an indirect reference to that special someone. She awaits his reply and desires to join him, in that emotional sea; to mesh herself with this person she loves. While only the creative minds write poems and music about the person being remembered, the feeling is universal.

 

That pang of pain, that sudden stopping of mind, that literal heartburn, those misty eyes, the lonely nights, and that sullenness of the early sun distresses every abandoned soul; suffer the pang of longing. It's because the one who moves on leaves us, goes on a business tour or vacation takes that major chunk of the heart where love dwells. Essentially stingy, they leave behind just a wisp of themselves. That big piece of love that can keep one warm during those long wakeful nights, that caress when the nightmares knock, that makes the mornings brilliant, the days agile is never shared by the miser.

 

The ‘Art of Missing’ is that mushy feeling of passion that makes one ardent until their love returns. Love is a crazy feeling. It is the wackiest when it cannot be instantly articulated.

 

Brian Adam's points out in his song; only when someone leaves, only then one really understands the feeling of being in love. A love that is hopeless, irrevocable, absolute.

 

Author: Kleio B'wti

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Yellow Slip

For the first time in her life, she felt that a pack of stapler pins could be that heavy to lift as she tried to throw it in her drawer. She could feel her heart go heavy with those thoughts as she tried to quickly clear up her desk. She extended her arm to the fullest and swept the desk at one go and dropped everything into the middle drawer of her Sheesham wood desk.

Stunned at how dreadfully she had let him go- actually made him go! She rushed out of her corner desk leaving behind her favorite red stole on the chair, whispering in her concerned colleague's ear about some emergency for her pale face. The stairs of the two floored building looked like an infinite to her.

She smashed the door of her office building and ran through the pavement shouting for a taxi. Some angel from heaven stopped his taxi and she occupied it without losing a breath. She ordered and begged in a single tone to the man on the wheels to drive to the airport; her thoughts on the ruined collage of her life- a life without him.

The terminal T2 was just 5 kilometers away from her office and never took more than 20 minutes whenever she traveled in the past, but presently it looked like a travel to another continent across the seas. She could not imagine the look on his face after reading the letter she left on the kitchen table.

On a yellow slip, she had burst her heart out on. She had known him for years and today it felt like never ever. She always knew there was something which staggered his smile sometimes but he never expressed. He was always caring and loving, someone who would die for her smile. He was lazy but never failed to share his feelings, except one.

She still remembered the day her father, even against his dislike of him agreed to let her move in with him. He dressed clumsily in formals; didn’t shave for a month and was often high on alcohol. Still the charm he carried in those brown eyes and double-chinned face along with the ability to accept the failures of his life without a rebuttal, left no corner of insecurity in her dad's heart that he is true to himself if nothing else.

A sudden stoppage at the corner across the foot over bridge brought her back to her senses. She observed lane of cars bumped into each other, in alarm. She quickly grabbed her wallet, took a couple of tenners and threw them on the front seat next to the driver's, collected her stuff and thoughts and ran like a train towards the airport.

Her feet felt as if they were not with hers. She tried to run faster with those heels but couldn't overcome the resistance offered by her legs. How could she just write a letter asking the guy who cared for him the most to leave her and go to the girl she thought he wished to spend his life with? She was too broken and in love with him to give up her only desire and reason to live. She loved him too much to make him stay although she knew the feeling of pain it would invest in the heart to not have his love.

What could she have done? The question kept hitting her head. She has been stubborn and a demanding girl since childhood, one who never ever shared, forget about giving up! But today she let her most prized possession go, and he was the reason for that change in her.  The only thing she could do was to let him go, she tried to lessen her pain of guilt with this thought, but it would come back with more beat.

He made her laugh and took jokes on himself, they dined out often, he bought her flowers and chocolates, and they danced and held hands at events. He even kissed her at his mother's birthday. She loved sleeping in his lap with her cheeks in his hands and arms around his waist.

Although he earned little from his hateful job, he always found time to hear her office woes. And she returned the favor with a yellow slip endorsing him to return to his earlier love and a flight ticket- a complimentary gift. And she had done it all, without confirming what he wished for.

She was brought back in time by the security personnel at the entrance of the airport; with a pounding heart and vision blurred with uncontrolled tears. She believed this poison would kill her which she herself slipped in for no grant. She took long steps, by now her feet had given up, could barely stand but she refused to lose the battle.

A piece of paper could not be the reason for her soulless life. She’d fight, beg, cry or even contest but wouldn’t let him go. Standing next to the immigration counter dressed up as he wished to live for only this moment, she thought she saw him! A sound hit her ears confirming that the flight for Sydney has left with all passengers on boarding. With her misty eyes drying up, she had imagined someone but it was actually the image of another footfall in the crowd and not him!

Her heart stopped for a minute and her throat went dry. She then recollected the images in her head and walked out of the airport unsteadily. She bought some eggs, a milk pack and a loaf of bread and walked back on her way home. There were no thoughts fighting in her brain, the feelings were all fallen.  Her feet were blue out of defeat as she climbed the stairs of her apartment.

She opened the door- her fingers devoid of any blood flow. She locked the door from the inside with no intentions to ever unlock it again and dragged towards the kitchen sink. As she unfolded the paper bag and got hold of the matchstick to light the stove, she felt a pair of hands swirling around her waist, a pair of wet lips touched her neck. She turned around and looked into those brown eyes that freed her and fell into his arms for a sound sleep.

Author: Muflis Musafir

 

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Love Story

It's a Love Story...

Sunaina just got off the call with Arpit, discussing last minute stuff of her engagement with Sameer that was still midway. Time does not define the intensity of friendship between two people, at least among them. She met him at Saira’s wedding, her childhood friend, last year which wasn’t a Kodak moment of capture; the first hold off for her with Arpit. She thought him as the groom and the chaos and pools of laughter it created henceforth were the highlights of that wedding. He went with the flow to add some drama but eventually came to her rescue when she drowned twice her hair length in embarrassment.  Since then they have developed an amicable relationship which included 10-hour telephonic conversation a week, a couple of hundred messages and a few video chats.

Sunaina worked as a Junior Associate at Mehra and Sons Advocates, a midsize law firm in Bangalore suburbs. Sunaina was a quiet and introvert in a group as long as she wasn’t a couple of wine glasses heavy. She was also badass enough to scatter a few here and there with her words and raised eyebrows in the courtroom.  She scared a Judge once with her trademark eye-raising style; all he did was responded to a mobile call during the court trial.

She was altogether a different person in her formal attire, one who is not a  mirror reflection by any angle. This characteristic of Sunaina made Sameer swipe the floor with his knees and ask her to marry him. Sameer didn’t only love her for her juvenile nature but a lot more for the personality she grew into once in the courtroom.

She banged her right fist on the table, looking into the eye of the police officer and would say "Spill out the truth about fake FIR lodged”, (against the client) or “I’ll not only prove it but also open the book of your entire life deeds.” Looking at the convict and gave him the feeling that if he'd lie his soul would come out and reveal the truth out of fear. The magical moment when the officer gave up efforts to stand against her, was when Sameer knew she is the one he would like to grow capsicum in his backyard and eat lettuce every morning, from whatever was left. He held high regards for the profession and the way Sunaina embraced it and grew in it, made him respect her.

Sunaina, on the other hand, was never into a relationship, apart from once when she was in Graduation College. She fell for a guy who was eight years older to her, (at least that what she believed then). The guy worked at a local newspaper as a political editor. They even met her parents to get their blessings for marriage. That was some day! Her mother almost lost her senses; her father's blood pressure rose beyond approved levels and her elder sister fell off the floor in laughter holding her stomach in laughter pain. She used that topic for two straight years for amusement and even rumored it with spice among all their cousins. But this time when Sameer asked she and was blown away. He held high standards and repute among the line of co-goers. She couldn’t have found a better one and felt

Arpit also supported her in the decision and reviewing the case in his court of judgment favored for her corner. Though he was shocked on initially, he eventually couldn’t find anything against Sameer who led her to the ocean of lovers and blossoms. The jury (friends and family) also got hit at first, the way Arpti and Sunaina spent time in conversations. They always believed that it had gone beyond the cooking stage and they were actually piping. Her boss would tease her at social gatherings and off-site meets, but she could never make them believe that there was nothing beyond calls, messages, holidays and overloaded discussions.

Sunaina and Sameer got engaged at city’s most lavish fine-to-dine. It was a magical night with flowers, wine, music, and dance. Happy faces, roars of laughter, neon light flashings, and fathers drinking for the first time in life - the day couldn’t have gone better.

Arpit came to her room and she was already up. She hugged him with a smile turned towards the mirror, admiring her looks and recalling the last night. She had weird thoughts and feelings, into a space of uncertainty. She could feel her heart go heavy but rebutted with a thought that maybe it's normal. Arpit looked into her eyes and felt the reason of her pale chin; he held her hand and told her not to worry. But she couldn’t get it off her head; she could feel something in her spine going down and all of a sudden her feet went cold.

She hugged him again and could find peace transmitted into her body through his arms around her waist. She felt like sleeping and transferred her body weight onto him. She tightened her armband around his neck, bowed on his right shoulder and leaned towards his ear and with closed eyes and dry lips she whispered:

If it’s not you who wakes me up, let me sleep.”

 

Author: Muflis Musafir

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