Friday, January 25, 2013


Dear..... I run my hand on you; your firm yet gentle epidermis, giving way to a million pages that had been, once, a witness to my grief, joy, thoughts, images, ravings, rants and what not. I realise that you had much more to it than just being a patience receiver of me and my musings Birthdays, anniversaries, travel plans are just a few to mention of the countless things associated with and withi...n me that you were so adept in recording, even the fine details. You would, with ease, flip through my thoughts wherein lay answers to the troubled soul. I would rummage through files and folders like a hurricane trying to put the missing pieces together in answering the biological and physiological questions thrown at me by our family physician and all the while, you would keep staring at me giving me enough time and space to vent out anger at my own lack of orderliness, to fall back on you, exhausted and exasperated, naturally.

Until one day.......

I do not recall exactly when it happened and how I found company, if I can call it so, in a body starved of patience and reticence, who would not spare a moment in churning out warning signals of his incapability in keeping his promise of doing his bit to keep this companionship, leave alone offering to stand by, lest he crashes devoid of energy pills. You never ever let me know of any of your own trying moments including something as miniscule as wanting to energise yourself with a few morsels of food or a nap. As always, you maintain a dignified silence, as if, when some things are swept by the ever ticking clock, it is better to flow with the ebb and tide rather than trying to retrace the footsteps; they no longer remain there, wiped by sands of time.

I run my hand on you; your firm yet gentle.... that is all I had known you while you had all along known me much more than myself. I wonder if you still consider me worthy enough to be offered a chance to pick up the strings once again and this I say so with a doubt on my own abilities. Yet, I know nothing can take away the warmth that transpired between us.

Love you Dear....................Dear Diary.


  1. Psychologist, Nalini Nair, says that writing diaries is a form of catharsis; which is a process of cleansing or purging our emotions out....keep at it, Novel. Put everything together and publish a book of your life.:)

  2. I do agree Panchali Di!! :) just that the diary is an electronic one now!! but I still miss the old one!! :)

    So happy to see you here! Please do see the poem titles Dreams posted in response to the ONe word prompt naked. Would love to hear from you! :)


  3. liked the way of your writing...........


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