Letters to No One

 I keep dreaming about you. I do not know why. Who are you? Why are you prancing around in my subconscious? What knowledge are you withholding? Tell me. I am but a reflection of myself. I exist in your mind; I live in your reality. I am a figment of your imagination.

I am a traveller; I keep seeing you. Under a shady tree, on the train, I have seen you cry alone. I have seen you meandering across your mind. Tell me, where are you going? Why are you always at my destination before me? How can you tell me about my hegira? 

I have seen you, I have seen you before. I saw you yesterday and the day before. I keep seeing your face. It is breathtaking. I cannot seem to get your visage out of my eyes. You have bewitched me, my wretched heart. I have seen you painted in a multitude of colours, breathing life into my banal world. You seem like a different person every day; your eyes are the same. I know it is you. The moment I look at you, I know it is you.

I have been pondering. I have poured over works of great minds, I have looked at the deepest corners of the internet, I have scavenged every piece of information I come across. But, to know, to solve a mystery that keeps me up. I have seen myself. I looked so different from myself. Yet, I could tell it was me. I was never a believer of made-up theories (arent all theories made up?), however that day, that sight has been engraved into my memories. No matter how much I look into it, there is no explanation.

Could you wait for me? I have been running like a madman after you. I know you. It would be best if you trusted me. You should know me. Aren't I a part of you? Don't you trust me? You have seen me. Stop running. You know what happened when you ran away last time. You brought me to the funeral of the love of my life, someone I haven't met yet.

Something is falling apart. There seems to be a crack in my universe. In our universe? Fate seems to be falling apart. I have seen such uncountable versions of myself—prancing, not aware that the future is bringing us together, that we will have to collide. I do not know what will happen when that day comes. We are all instruments dancing to the whims of our subconscious. I can not tell what is real and what is not.

All I can tell is that we are the same person, in different colours. 

These are my letters to myself and no one. I wonder who will read them. I do not know if you can.

Comments

  1. AnonymousMay 14, 2021 at 11:21 AM

    Like how you write letters even I write to myself, I'm not as elequoent as you but I do know how it feels to want to keep it all inside yet hope for someone, anyone to know how you feel to know that you are not alone. And that's what I want to tell you you are not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AditiMay 14, 2021 at 11:23 AM

    This is very deep and very well penned ����

    ReplyDelete

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