For the one who gave a Thousand words.

 FOR THE ONE WHO GAVE A THOUSAND WORDS…

The setting sun brought an element of inert division in our lives. It brought an innovative thought of sharing before we go apart.
I saw her standing, waiting for me. I walked up to her;
I said: “It is my parting desire, to give you imaginations, my imaginations. Take them with you when you are away, worn-out and distressed. Use my imagination and treasure those moments. Relive all those imminent moments using my imaginations.

She glanced at me with those eyes, longing.

She: “I have something to give you too. You have given me a great deal, more than what I knew of, more than it appeared to be, more than my imagination. I’d like to give you all those moments we spent together”.

I: You are kind... I’d love that...  I would cherish all those momentous times over and over each day... the moment we first eyed our eyes the moments of falling and then rising in it. The moments of staying apart and staying put, the moments of believing in each other getting irritated & annoyed followed by that so… conveniently delightful depression of listening to each other’s voice or getting a sight of each other, the moments we lived as one and moments when we died alone.
I’d recall them every time I’ll miss you. I thank you for giving me all these moments.
I smiled and kept smiling…
I found it similarly moving and obliged her.

I: I want to give you all the laughter that we laughed together... on stations... in cafés... about where we lived... in our classrooms... there are just echoes left around here... take them with you and when you come across meeting gloomy faces, offer them some of it. Give it to our art teacher, if you ever meet him, he has forgotten how to even smile... give him some of it and he'd be surprised to discover how beautiful it is to smile and laugh all over again... share it with people at the cathedral... they happen to come there for contentment... and plead and cry for it... assist god in bringing laughter in their lives... Give it to the children... a child with no laughter is like bird without wings...
She gazed at me with admiration.

I: “I want to rid you of something. I want you to give me all your tears. I believe you don’t need them any longer... but I do... I need to learn how to converse with your eyes and with your tears when you decipher that words are not much of a help. You are heading to step into new phase as of now on, you need to retain all those optimistic elements in your life and put away all of the sadistic ones.
She reluctantly agreed...

I: I would ask you to take all of my words with you...”
Puzzled she looked at me with wet baffled eyes... I observed the question in those eyes and explained...
I: “When you are alone with your seldom self. You would be able to employ my words. You should prose them, write them, speak them, sing them, and there’d be no loneliness and no more agony.
Her eyes glittered with smile... Looked gratified and uttered:

She: “I would write poems and songs with your words... songs for love... for broken hearts... for glory... for despair... for women in love... for men who went to war... for people who suffered in war... songs for girls living in mountains... lullabies for children... rhymes for school boys and girls... I’d write songs for sunshine... for rain... for peace... I’d write them with your words... I would write books, stories and make the nation proud of me... and within myself I’d be proud of you... grateful to you for your words...
She unwillingly stopped.
I looked right through her... she emerged as a deity of love... I felt proud of her.
Always and never.

She: would you write to me? Would you talk to me if we ever come across in future?
I kept silent... couldn’t speak... couldn’t think of words to speak...
I was out of words... I couldn’t talk. A tear dropped and streamed down…
I had given her all of my words I couldn’t find anything to convey my feelings with...
She did give me her tears... so I used them. I shed, expressed my feelings through them and she felt that hint of guilt and confusion. Her eyes gave out how puzzled she was by my silence, she couldn’t understand it...

After giving and taking everything that we had left.

I started walking away. I didn’t look back, this time I wasn’t supposed to look back.
She perhaps, walked away as well...
Our footsteps marked the existence over that sandy layer and before we could even walk farther, an insignificant wave came with that particular noise it makes. For me that noise was like a serene sound of life, washing over and erasing their mark and everything that came along with them.

Something imagined of being so vast and natural, drowning, just like our delicate love was.
But there’s always a silver lining in the dark clouds. 
Ultimately, I found that what you find is, life goes on it never changes what changes, is us.
We change! Everyday we find love... more appropriately love finds us and stays, we fondle it. People come into our lives. They stay and then they depart. They change with life too but what remains is incredibly pure like running water…
Love! Adequately, to prolong a lifetime with or without the beloved.

Jehangir Solangi-