You try and let go but I hold on to your hands, fingers intertwined, tighter. You pull with much greater force than my heart can shelter and I leave you, at once. It’s not physical, but an emotional force that pushes me away from you. I walk forward in that inertia, following the feelings as they draw a map that leads to you. The roads are deserted, houses abandoned and it is you probably, who caused an exodus. The air reeks of sorrow and neglect, fueling mental suffocation and conscious degradation of my courage. This town has a tone of morbidity only you can bestow. There are no trails, neither a footprint to follow. Where have these people gone? Why do these memories feel real? How can dreams become people? Why does your presence take away their lives? It’s all a lie. And hence, I lie.
Bharath Upendra considers himself a regular Joe who unapologetically talks about the usual and obvious. Writing to him is like an uninvited guest who still hasn’t left and to whom he’s gotten used to anyway.
You can find more of his writing at Bharath’s Banter where he speaks his mind and writes his heart.
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