A friend recently sent me a pendant (Image below) that has the name of this very blog on it. She moved on to a different continent earlier this year, and what has ensued is what always ensues: we are unable to synchronise Skype calls, there's hardly any regularity to when we catch up on each others' lives, and we are making friends without each other. To add spice to the situation, we are growing up. But, I digress. Coming back to the pendant. The gift was sure, shipped from another continent, and all, but this was among the thoughtful gifts. You know, when real effort goes into gifting something to someone the meaning of which only a few people can totally comprehend? The kind of thoughtfulness that makes the gift sacred.
Dear friend, it doesn't remind me of you, it doesn't smell of you either. Heck, we haven't even lived any of our memories with it. But it is still sacred, because it somehow magically managed to traverse its material meaning, and slipped into my heart. Slipped inside enough to make me get back to poetry after 4 years. Need I say, thank you?
Sometimes, You Hold On...
There's a thin line, an important one
The difference
The difference
Between moving away and drifting apart
There are no full stops,
Not really anyway.
Because, life ends in a comma
With unfinished business
And words unsaid, and gifts slated to be delivered
In the middle of a sentence, just like tha
With an 'almost'
And a blurred vision
Of what could be, in an alternate universe
With an 'almost'
And a blurred vision
Of what could be, in an alternate universe
And so we count upon
The difference
Between moving away and drifting apart
Geographies will define the former,
We will just be silent spectators,
But we will always make the two minutes' skype call
Worth all the postponement, and scheduling
Yes, it will hurt.
It will suck to admit what we know deep down
The eventuality of the numbing distance
And we will hope, secretly
To wither away together, in that hilly cottage
We talked about, I hope you remember?
Against all odds, that once again
Our paths will cross, and
we will make new memories
No, I don't think we can relive the ones from the past
because that's what they are:
Past.
And in the meantime,
gestures are all we have
To stain each other with laughter
The kind reminiscent of our clumsiness
(mostly your clumsiness, though)
And this pendant will not just be a necklace
It will always be more:
A reminder. A token. A keepsake
No, it wouldn't go with that dress
or wouldn't seem right to be worn at
That conference
But I will hold on to it, tight
Like my life depends on it
Because it does
Do you hear? I will wear it on my sleeve
Because when all is said and done,
this is the nearest I have to your spirit,
And to the frolic of our compatibility and love.
The miles are tangible, the distance isn't
It just is an intangible demon conspiring to drift us apart,
supported by the vagaries of time.
But with this tied to me, we wouldn't let it.
We will just be silent spectators,
But we will always make the two minutes' skype call
Worth all the postponement, and scheduling
Yes, it will hurt.
It will suck to admit what we know deep down
The eventuality of the numbing distance
And we will hope, secretly
To wither away together, in that hilly cottage
We talked about, I hope you remember?
Against all odds, that once again
Our paths will cross, and
we will make new memories
No, I don't think we can relive the ones from the past
because that's what they are:
Past.
And in the meantime,
gestures are all we have
To stain each other with laughter
The kind reminiscent of our clumsiness
(mostly your clumsiness, though)
And this pendant will not just be a necklace
It will always be more:
A reminder. A token. A keepsake
No, it wouldn't go with that dress
or wouldn't seem right to be worn at
That conference
But I will hold on to it, tight
Like my life depends on it
Because it does
Do you hear? I will wear it on my sleeve
Because when all is said and done,
this is the nearest I have to your spirit,
And to the frolic of our compatibility and love.
The miles are tangible, the distance isn't
It just is an intangible demon conspiring to drift us apart,
supported by the vagaries of time.
But with this tied to me, we wouldn't let it.
There's a difference
Between moving away and drifting apart
And we shall always try to hold on to that difference.
That's the noble thing to do.
That's the noble thing to do.
PS: There has been a spelling error. It has been intentional. those who get the meaning, will get the meaning!
