The breeze was swishing through
Her soft silky tresses.
Seeping into and out of
Her body, soul and spirit.
And she stared blankly—
Out of the cheap and noisy,
Green and yellow matchbox
Of a vehicle, into the busy muddy
jam-packed black river of the land.
She kept staring,
Steady and blank.
“I can’t see you anymore” he had blurted
Over one heated phone call;
“I’ve had enough”, he had declared.
“I have told you and explained to you
And tried everything else, but you
Won’t understand. So I’ve just had it.”
And he had disconnected.
Severing all the words, the promises,
The memories— in one stony click.
And all she could do was
Keep staring blankly.
That was eight months ago.
Now she had moved on.
She had learned to laugh—
However much it pierced her.
She had learned to smile
For her family,
For her friends,
For herself.
She had wiped off those memories,
Like she had wiped off those tears.
She had clenched her fists and jaws and teeth,
And moved on.
And then comes today.
She saw him,
Buying movie-tickets,
With his new found love.
And she stared at him—
Blank and steady,
Steady and blank.
He saw her as well, but
O! Wasn’t he smarter!
He just looked through her—
Such a windy glance!
Right through her
Body, soul and spirit!
And he moved on, a possessive arm
Wrapped around his.
It was all a flurry of blurry—
A misty lump of dump...
All she remembered was
Her straight stare— steady and blank.
And she was now buzzing through
The busy muddy jam-packed
Black river of the land.
She had not said a word even then,
She had not said a word even now,
And yet she knew,
That she had made a confession,
Through her steady, blank stare.
