I went back there along the long forsaken path. The storm has become silent now and a whispering zeaphyr was kissing those perspiring beads on my forehead.
Ashes of Love smeared the fallen flowers, the fragrance was lost in the grains of Time . The faded shades of it were as if narrating tales to those deserted branches~ tales of the time they weren’t mere flowers, but also somebody’s gesture of professing Love.
The path took me into that Palace of Isolated Metaphors.
A huge colossal gate that remained partly opened.
A slight push and with a harrowing sound of those rusted ridges, it retorted back.
And my steps got affixed there.
It has been six months now. But the smell of the tear-kissed earth there hasn’t changed.
The Columns of Memories.
The Arch of Hopes.
Those incomplete inscriptions on it that were slowly getting piled under the stack of bitterness.
And few Murmuring voices that formed a halo around the King’s Throne.
I listened carefully – that unknown familiarity of promises once made and quotes exchanged as if created a dizzy spell on me.The spell of Solitude.
With measured steps, I counted the stairs upto that Throne. Dust has taken shelter in the creases now, hindering the shine.
The expanse of my hands traced the contours of it . I wanted to rest it totally unperturbed, but as if my somebody was iterating in my ears.
Behind those towering walls,where cries rented the air, I found a figment of my previous self , adoring the pattern on the broken tiles.
Her hands were bound with the shackles of Time as she rested her temple on the stack of unread letters and misread scribbles. Of blotted confessions that were heard but never felt…A part I lost to be never found again.
I saw that tireless glitter in her glances still waiting against the Horizon for Him to return. For him to realise that Stories don’t die in the momentary grave of Falsehood, it rests in those timeless glances of Love…
Lost in my haze of thoughts that I retraced my steps. Shifting through those decaying walls of fantasy, I slowly saw the contours of the crouching figure disappear.
And down the Lines of Destiny, I reached the other side of the palace . The Labyrinth of Memories lay desolate there, with stains of His shadow still duplicating his presence…
The wings with which I once soared in the delusion of Love seemed to be crushed now. I giggled at my imprudence, my eyes were still searching for Him…
The expanse of the Palace ends there.
So do the Stories meet their punctuations forever.
Retracing my steps, I tried to go near that lost figment of myself. Striking one futile try to take her back and imbibe into Present.
But with each step, she seemed to travel away from Me. And in that unfathomable void of Love, I lost her again…and again!!
Uncanny yet enticing.
Disowned yet nostalgic.
That was the essence of that Palace,
that I return again and again !