This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 20; the twentieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
The morning mist reminded him of her. It had been her ritual - staring across the window while Kantabai, served their morning coffee. He liked his coffee hot and strong and she preferred keeping her coffee waiting, just like she had kept him waiting all these years. He never really knew how to wait, Oh! He hated waiting, but she had taught him to wait.
Being a Assistant Director of a multinational company, he always had a hectic schedule. He wouldn’t call himself workaholic but she had always made fun of him, asking him to ‘ jump a little, dance a little, sing a little.’ He never really understood her- He couldn’t understand what could make someone stare for ages together at the clouds and trees.....
As he kept watching the morning mist, he didn't realize that his coffee had turned cold.....
'We can still be friends',
she said, after they broke up.
They never discussed the how
Nobody talks about the how anyway.
A year and half with her
was a long time for him.
But longer than that
was the time needed
to forget, to erase and to heal.
Like the rest in her life, He too slipped away.
Very slowly at first...
And soon she couldn't recall his name.
' We can still be friends'
thats what she said.
she said, after they broke up.
They never discussed the how
Nobody talks about the how anyway.
A year and half with her
was a long time for him.
But longer than that
was the time needed
to forget, to erase and to heal.
Like the rest in her life, He too slipped away.
Very slowly at first...
And soon she couldn't recall his name.
' We can still be friends'
thats what she said.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
Credits
Image - Window Rain Drops by Eric Alder
Courtesy - www.deviantart.com via www.blogaton.in
12 comments:
hmmmm.... no one talks about the how. True that.
Nice..our posts could actually pass as sequels...<a href="http://jsrock3.blogspot.com/2011/05/fire-and-water.html>The fire and the water</a>
And the memories wash away with the rain..Sad, but it is what happens mostly..
My Blogaton Entry
That was a bit on the sad side...but the poem was beautiful and post touching!
Break up can really change a person and the world around...and moving on is always not the option!
Good Read...
Take Care.
"We can still be friends
that wat she said"
Sad but true most of the times.. Love your entry.. Thanks for participating in BAT..
Good luck for BAT....and ~ the pic became our.. the home became our... ~
and vote for your favorite entries here
Someone is Special
Sad truth ! Well written poem
Well written. The how can never be really said properly. The verse was perfect.
All the best for BAT.
In just 1 word, i can say..TOUCHING..
You captured emotions in words, many attempt to do it...you do it with ease!! Superb!! Coming bk for more!
@ all thank you for all the comments..
did you post this earlier? I remember seeing something like that. happy you are getting good comments.
Sadly this is just how it goes sometimes. Well written narrative and poem. A fine BAT entry.
we can still be friends........how god only knows////// nice read
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