Words

It’s been long since I actually wrote for myself. Felt the pangs of the words struggling to get out one by one. It’s been a while. I wonder how the words were doing without me around for so long. Like a fickle breeze whose soothing touch entices you initially and you fall for it. You think it will come again and it doesn’t.

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Words now flow in torrents like the rain in the month of Ashaadh. With an urgency that makes me feel that they almost have a purpose. They want to humiliate me. Tell me how insensitive I was. How I tricked them into thinking that I cared for them. That I understood their language, shared their pain. But what pains them most now I realize. The fact that I haven’t even bothered to deceive them.

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Where were you when the pain that slashed through me also wiped my tears?

Where were you when I spoke to an empty room that filled my senses with your presence?

Where were you?