Another Solitary Walk

                                   
              Today the weather station had predicted some quick and early downpour. But I walked out anyway. Outside the remnant rays of the sunlight was slowly fading away and night was gently approaching with her downcast eyes and twinkling anklets. I could feel the susurration of a cold breeze shimmering through the grief-stricken tree tops. Above me the gunmetal-grey clouds was slowly proliferating, expanding and encasing the sky. I walked on.
                                  Today, after what seemed like an age, I received her e-mail. Nothing new. Just the same enquiry about my condition. I could feel a strange silence permeating from her letter. Instead of the earlier warmth I could feel a strange coldness, of love gone awry and a sense of complete resignation. I turn away from the main street and land myself in a dark alley. Here the ground was soft and the air colder. I stopped here, taking refuge in the darkness, wanting nothing but just the desire to pass through life unnoticed. Over the past few months her mails had become irregular. I couldn’t help but think that soon all this would stop. I would move on with my life and she would slowly melt and mingle away in those million faces, becoming a nameless face herself, like a cube of sugar dissolving in water. The breeze had become colder and it had already started to drizzle. I began to feel an overwhelming sense of vacuum and emptiness, a sense of being present in the midst of the crowd and yet feeling lonely. Back at home I sit down with a pen and paper, trying to express this extreme melancholy and despondency in words. Probably, its true after all that writing is the only consolation.