Humans of Himachal

Stories • Destinations • Motivation
Your brain adjusts - Kajal - mermaidspen - Humans of Himachal

//A vernacular of silence//

I am loud
behind a tinted glass,
a place where nothing really stays.
I write about you in silence
like lovers and their letters,
my words are mix tapes
left lingering
on the table;
too close yet too far.

I’m talking about
the dialect
you left hanging at my door
a language only I know;
The silence only you’re fluent in.

I’m thinking of
time and it’s motion,
Time, the one that never stops.
Time, which is hard to pass
looking for your traces.
Time, a moment stretched
along the length of your hair;
Time, the paradox we know.

I have read poets
talk about loss
that comes with silence
destroying the wheel of time.
But, what exactly is lost,
Time or silence?

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