Faraway, as far as eyes can see— no, there is nothing but the helpless cries of tired seagulls echoing through the windswept wooden benches I asked you to count once. Ah, you laughed at the absurd idea as there are hundreds.
Remember the day?
I suppose you don’t. But I do, as you were always complaining why I spend so much time with my friends; why I was replying late to your texts that day. But I wanted you to join— you couldn’t. I knew why and I didn’t complain.
But we were supposed to be here at this outskirt of a lonely town someday; you promised. We‘d walk stones together and bask in the dazzling moonlit night you said. Didn’t happen.
The sea still sparkles under the brightest moon with its petite waves, the sun makes it crispier every day. And the worn-out lighthouse stands there like a sentinel of the turbulent sea where we were meant to meet— nah, it didn’t happen.
But you were there, without me. I was there, without you. And we both counted the benches— just not together.
Remember the day you were wandering alone on the beach afternoon?
Oh, how I wanted to be by your side but you said no. There was a reason and I could barely insist you saying yes for me. Remember how you wept that day all alone— tears inking your cheek with the kajal you wore; that was my request— dressing up all in black; even the eyes covered in thick kajal. Ah, how beautiful you look on kajal; eyes turn into sharp swords slicing my heart thousands of times. Nobody knew but you. And perhaps the lighthouse that has forgotten its purpose.
Do you know I still wander on the beach all alone?
How could you— we are apart long days.
But the silhouette of the lighthouse at dusk reminds me how you wanted to be kissed on moonlit nights. And count stars with your head resting on my arms. Chasing the moon till sun replaces it at dawn. But you never felt it that way before— you said I ignited the spark of imagination in you and suspected we won’t ever be together; you said I am more like a poet and poets never join their beloveds. True, indeed.
But I am happy I was there for you when needed. In your dark hours when crying out loud was your only option— I was there to make you smile. Damn, I am so good at this— you said. But who is making me smile now; or you? Do you still weave the cloud of imagination like me; find hues even within the greyest elements?
Only if you were here.
I could teach you to dance with the waves, discover life within rusted railing of the lighthouse, find solace in stormy sea, or enjoy solitary amidst the crowd of hundreds of beacons directed towards sea from distant port. I would make you the witness of past— guide you to reach the harbour through the most violent waves and celebrate the forgotten relic of mighty lighthouse.
Would you join me again, silencing the roaring waves?
We’d indulge ourselves in the musty smell of these curved walls. We’d race to the top following the spiral stairs, turn the door’s creaking into a melody. We’d ignite the lamp again, direct light to lost sailors, mend the broken glasses— we’d be the witness of time. We’d share the elusive secret of panoramic sea from above; unfold stories we longed to tell, unfold each other.
Would you join me, again?
Ⓒ mine