Ode to the gone!

The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love!

The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest -

The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!

And, the unending waits, too! 

And then, there was desperation, and urge to enfeeble the weak!

Whatsoever, power is immaterial while being in love... 

Like my love, I was flowing.

Rather, my love was flowing like I was.

I took in; all that you gave me... dear Love!

And then, there was Malena.

And as I passed my boyhood days, there was Hannah.

Some time later I realized that I was still that kid, the Renato.

I never grew up in love! I never grew up!

In my love, there was one more person - My dad!

Like the honorable chief guest of some rare occasions, he walked in, to reconstruct me.

Rather, I surrendered, shedding all my pride away.

And, I acknowledge him. I was wrecked before he came.

You are there in the tale of my love, dad!

Yea, and then, there were power failures,

There was sweat that I have breathed in the limited permitted minutes.

I do remember, I have always been in a hurry...

Maybe forefathers would have farsighted my premature death while being in love!

Yea, they were there... My great grandfathers were there in my love and the history of my heredity.

The unpaved roads to my ancestral home,

And the derailed, unmarried man who walked in there -

While my grandmother was sitting on that pyol of my legendary home, probably chewing the betel leaves.

Everyone was there in my love...

I shared my history, my sensual intolerant present, and sometimes my ambitious future...

In the tale of my love everything and everyone was there...

I spared or saved none or nothing... But, only a little well received!

And your tears, those seen and unseen -

Regarded and disregarded.

I have seen it and felt it. I admit.

And what else? Oh... I see nothing now. I only feel events, I don't see anything.

And there were rented homes, I remember, in my love!

And, there was wilderness when I was allowed to intertwine being there!

And there was also five minutes of nap under permissible conditions!!

I remember, I was an obedient boy...!

And, there was your uncompromising morality as well, in my love!

And there were some beautiful words which only we too would understand and smile...

Words have been there in my love... Tremendously flooding words...

The vocabularies… Oh, my love! Those poetically beautiful vocabularies...

Like our children - the future, we also gave birth to wonderful vocabularies.

  

Yes, there were dark ages when I was lost irresistibly when you were gone.

My poignant street rides, knowing not the destination,

Amid my wandering days, there was a breastfeeding woman in a car upon whose sight I started to shiver...

And there was rain. Nobody knows... nobody knows...

Oh God! I would be glad if you really exist!

Yes, there was rain... The rain was there every time, blessing me and my soul.

Amid those motorcycle journeys in rain, God, you gave us shelter as well.

Your design of my twenty-five years is hereby admired with gratitude.

Yes! I have cried for your refuge, cursed you, and sometimes warned you. 

But, you were there in the tales of my love, dear God! I admit your irreplaceable presence...

And, my journeys were dangerously swift in a way that none can ever imagine.

To take control of the clocking time, I was driving for her...

There is no record of those miles I have traversed through the roads that reach her...

Oh God! Those roads... Those roads were spread in three different territories.

I have covered them all like the seven skies Muhammed had to pass to reach God Almighty! 

I can't imagine how I made those long solitary journeys back and forth unto her those days...

Time! You just gave the best and worst for me.

You, time! You are noted.

And that time is gone.

I know, gone is gone forever!

No conclusions. I am clocking now.

The needles are under control.

My love is not... its wilderness is not.

They are subtly allowed to remain alive.

So, my love is, subtly, alive.

The brook is calm now.

And, my love has always been private... naked and pure...

My love was not enveloped in floral designs and placed amid scented candles...

It was raw and wild, yet sweet, I believe... at times, worse!

But, I gave it all while being in love... all of my soul.

I was "giving"...

And there were brutal sacrifices, inhibitions, and sometimes, submissions, of which there is no record of –

Just like the entire tale of my love!

In spite of the deep wounds you have caused, precisely, my love has caused my heart, I am thankful for time!

With due gratitude, I shall hereby quit the words to the gone!

...

Also, like you know, there were black moles in my love...

They are beautiful... They were beautiful...

They were beautiful like the so many "unlived" moments that I buried alive!

Maybe, I was a lunatic as Paul, the last tango in Paris, for which you have shot me to death...!

But I am not dead...

I know not about my "love".

The End.