The same old stories

Tears have flooded the desert, seeped in the sands of fate quenching the dried up thrist of ugly fate. I am just plainly tired of living a life of hopeful hope that slips away everytime I pick up the satin reins of hope. So wishing to give new wings to my failing heart I took a stroll down to the park today.

Hot winds that greeted me the previous day seemed to belong to ages ago as the cold wind of the first day of october pinched me. I realised it was a mistake to come out in my skimpy shorts and t-shirt, but a soul driven out by sorrow cares too less for the outter garments which warms not the wretched inner soul. Undeterred I walked on.

The park although situated in the midst of many roads diverting to various direction invites few guests.Maybe people don't have much time to waste  in the park or it could be people here do not know love. However, I've spent many of my melancholic days there and it gave me solace merely being there. As I went to the bench well hidden in the bushes, where I normally sit to cry away all the tears my sorrow is worth. But today as soon as I kept my heavy body on the bench I heard a sigh that would have set sail a mighty yatch. I landed in turmoil, to sit with my share of agony plus another agonised being or vamoose from there as quickly as possible. I chose the former as I had no face to sit in the other benches which was open to all passing humans and automobiles alike.

"Do you believe in love?" Startled at the strange question of my sobbing stranger neighbor I stood up. Ah! so that's what triggered that query, written in bold letters I BELIEVE IN LOVE with a picture of tiny cupid with his arrow showed on my t-shirt. Of all the days I had to wear that shirt. I wanted to rip open my shirt to tell my neighbor that it was the last feeling on earth that I would ever believe in but given the tearful situation that greeted me, I didn't have the heart to break the already broken heart. "Why do you ask?" was all I could afford.

Then started the journey of love which is nothing different for any person who has walked on the path of romance. She told me how she met her prince charming who stole her heart and soul and made her feel the heaven had come to kiss the earth. The usual twist, they got married and love flew out of the window never to cast second glance back at them.

I wanted to tell her that my heart was in the same whirlpool as hers but I guess every being thinks that one's grief is the most painful. So I allowed her to play the role of the most wretched being alive on earth while my heart wanted to pop out of my being and jump on the stone slab near us and shriek on top of my voice that I am also burning in this same tempest. Thick drops of tears plunged down her cheek. I withdrew the tissue I had brought for my own tears and gave it to her. People in sorrows forget the customary politeness, she didn't thank me for my generous offer and I didn't mind.

She took me in the journey I was so familiar with, the sweet aches of love; the soaring in feelings like heavens is just next door; and then the ultimate reality making one fall with loudest thud that not only breaks one's heart but shatters one's soul too beyond repair. She stood abruptly and muttered a soft sorry for shedding her sorrows on me and left. She moved like a big block of lead weighted down by sorrow but looking at her I knew she was not one big block but a thousand splinters trying to come together to form the same old being.

I had gone to the park to cry my sorrows away but landed up with eyes too stunned to cry yet carrying double the lead in my soft heart. Right after reaching home, I flung myself on the bed and cried, for myself and also for that broken being I met in the park.