Rendezvous

Rendezvous

It rained very heavily last night. I was sitting outside, protected by the roof above me. Though the millions of secondary microscopic droplets were falling all over my body due to the intensity of rain. Mild enough for me to keep my eyes open. Intense enough to moisten my clothes. And I sat there on the porch, with earphones plugged into my ears. And my legs tapping to the tunes of songs playing in the phone.

One tap of left leg for every downward strum of guitar and one tap of right leg for every upward strum of guitar.

And I peeked through the keyhole inside our house. All the others were glued to the laptop. They were reading some fighter toads comics they had downloaded. And I knew it was time to stay outside. Umm yes there was one more reason. He had told me in the morning that he wanted to chat with me. So I sat on the porch again tapping my feet to the tunes of the song.

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"So you have changed your name to dreamer", he said with doubt in his eyes.

"But wasn't I a dreamer when I was you", I didn't look around to locate him. I didn't even stop tapping my feet to the tunes.

"When did you start to listen to rock for gods sake. Don't you know you're hurting yourself when you do that".

I stopped tapping my feet and said, "Not always is a needle poked in your flesh meant to hurt you". I started tapping them again.

"Why do you seem so cold. Why do you think so much. Why do you write like that. Do you remember what I used to write... why can't you write something like that".

"I am not blind perhaps thats why I seem so cold. Lots of things changed since the day you left. To go through incidents and to react to them is much easier than to absorb them. I need to think to absorb them. I write to catalyze that absorption. I remember what you used to write. I wish I could write something like that".

"You have lost weight, you know. You perhaps are wearing off my body."

"Your body? I am sorry, I'll take care of it now. didn't know that its yours".

"Why did you call me today? What do you want from me".

"Can you come back. I want to retire".

"You there..."

"You..."

"Ah..."

I stopped tapping my feet. I was almost drenched by the microscopic secondary rain droplets. Earlier yesterday, I had opened my old slam book and testimonial diary. And in the testimonial diary I found few pages stapled together firmly. I recalled that I had done it long back. I opened those pages. And there were some poems in it. I read them and I wished I could meet the author of those poems.

I wished I could convince myself that I had written those poems which I myself had burried long back.

I stopped the song in my mobile.

And then after five silent minutes, I played the song again.

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