The Gift

The Gift

She was looking at the beautiful starry night with the fading hope that someday his eyes would twinkle remembering her. All sorts of communication skills failed when she came in front of him. She could easily decipher his intensified silence while her words seemed to be inadequate to reach the contours of his heart. These days she has left pondering on him and in a way was relieved from the heavy shackles of emotions that used to burden her inner soul once upon a time. Nowadays his thought hovered over her mind like a beaming firefly that vanished within a split of a second. However, the present moment desired some sort of daydreaming in her preoccupied and practical schedule, where at times, she felt short of a breath. He was going to leave the place permanently hereby assuring her agony stricken mind with the nearest possibility that they would never meet again.

 

Although deep within she felt a tinge of pain remembering about her inability to befriend a soul yet delving deep into her psyche, she could only generate good wishes for him. She did not blame him for anything, on the contrary, accused her deeply infatuated soul for causing all sorts of disruption to herself. She often indicted her masochistic soul for inflicting pain intentionally on her mind by manifesting an expected framework. She smiled within, she has materialised with some matured forms of suppositions these days and nothing in the world could de-motivate her from her aspiring dreams. She took a deep breath as if exhaling out everything that was holding her back. The cold night breeze made her relapse into his memory once again. She wanted him to reach the pinnacle of fame and succeed in every aspect of life. She wanted to tell him that โ€˜may sky be your only limitโ€™ but probably he chose not to hear them. She knew that she was a glorious mess and an incredibly insane person but deep within, she was a good soul. He was leaving and she wanted to bid him goodbye being his constant well-wisher.

 

It was a hectic day after all, and leaving a place which had been his abode for quite some time made him nostalgic unconsciously. He had always wanted to leave the place assuming that it did not appeal him anymore but with the passage of the limited number of days, he felt more encapsulated with this beautiful place. He was hopeful about his bright prospective future yet somewhere within his subconscious mind; this place had carved a niche in his heart. His chain of thoughts was fragmented when he found a small parcel on his table. The senderโ€™s name was unavailable. ย He opened it with an extreme form of curiosity. It was a book of poems by Pablo Neruda. He was one of the fascinating poets who had encrypted his poetic sensibilities within him. His deep-seated joy transmigrated into a form of profound astonishment where his mind constantly wandered about the elusive figure behind this. His eyes twinkled as he read the phrase that was scribbled on the first page of the book;

 

For those unspoken words…

ย 

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