Like some things become temporary forever. The silence, the stare, those eyes, that smile…I wonder how time flies giving us surprises at every turn and twist. He never said anything except the best words of silence. Had he spoken them out even once, I would have gone with the wind to break free of all the shackles of convention, to fly with him. But he didn’t say a thing, and I didn’t go. He went ahead, I stayed back looking in wonders of what could have been had it been.
How I should remember him, sometimes time teaches me to do so and at other times, it’s just those temporary forevers, the flashbulb memories. Like the long gaze of those thoughtful eyes. He could speak so much and with such conviction with those silent eyes. I could notice a twinkle or two at times when he used to look at me and my nonstop explanations with such awe, as if he was spelled under it. I would feel like a sky then. But I never told him how I felt.
Sometimes, he would speak a few words – of course at the most unexpected times that leave no room for me to look at him in awe. But when I recall those times, I can feel those undercurrents like a torrid flush of raindrops. And I am left burnt out so helplessly. Could we just go back in time to feel it again, to make a little change here and there? I wish I could. But I didn’t tell him any of my insane what ifs.
We hardly speak nowadays. Well, not in person or over the phone. But I feel I do so very often, even more than I actually spoke to him over the years. Does it mean I get the signs late? Maybe I’m a slow reader. But I still want to tell him how I felt when I felt. As I grow, the gap between right and wrong times tends to go blurry just like my eyesight. Maybe there is no gap at all. I can still see those flashbulb memories running clearly in my head, trying to play hide and seek. That makes me smile in silence and sigh in that same awe. I still haven’t told him about any of it.
Maybe someday I should. Or rather, I will let the pages of the unfinished story do the endless talks. It has been unfinished ever since it started. In fact, it never started in a way ‘start’ can be defined. And it never ended too. I still wonder what it could have been like if it had ever sounded like a complete story. But then, completion does not always have a clear definition. Maybe the temporary forevers are already complete, like the flashbulb memories. So, I have decided finally to talk about it, all of it. Hope he reads someday – the words of silence that pen the unfinished story. And I will be happier than ever to start with ‘once upon an awesome time’. I could already feel that smile and those eyes silently staring at me in awe.