We had broken up few years ago , his mom suffered cancer died quickly , father remarried in three months , had a child within a year,I was under the illusion that I was perhaps the only person in his life with whom he could have that “unmanly talk of feelings”. We were not in a relationship, but he continued to hold my hand when we crossed a busy street where there were anonymous hands waiting to grope me if I lost my guard. It was about less than a year since he went to UK and announced that he was marrying a citizen, flight attendant. Visa, money, sense of belonging,definitely a woman more beautiful than me and lot less complicated,a good bargain.
“Imagine you are in a forest , imagine the road, imagine the lighting of the road, imagine the house, imagine the fence , imagine a source of water , then finally imagine a wall , what did you do with that wall?” we girls sat doing this projective test on each other. His wedding reception was in some hall near by , they all knew , he had not invited me. I said my house was small , garden was huge, fence was not too rigid…..but the wall was very high , I was struggling to climb , slipping since I felt pulled down.
“What about the water ? What did you do with the water?”
“Oh it was too huge a pot of water , I drank little, left it for others who may be thirsty and I went on, as I knew I will find water all my way”
My friend hugged me and began to cry.
“That water is love, you kept nothing for yourself, and you believed it will always be there in some form or the other ….?”
“Yes” I whispered.
I was young.
I was sure.

5 thoughts on “UNMANLY TALK

  1. This poem is rich in metaphor, I liked the way you have blended deep emotions with water. Where in one hand when water stands still, it reflects calmness, but also evaporates or languishes with sediment of memories. Water’s nature is to flow and acquire the shape of the vessel it is in or the course it flows through (adaptability). Water is calm, yet, so forceful and patiently eroded rocks and mountains (resilience). Water is the source of purification too. And with water, you can mould clay to shape it as desired. We are made of water and it is Life. And tears flow to purify the soul.
    A wonderful piece of poetry, but has a melancholic tone.


    1. Thank you for your valuable comment.
      I call this genre as flash fiction , word count less than 350 , some what like precis writing assignment. But , yes, Water was a metaphor and the entire second paragraph was a metaphor. I am glad it appealed to you and intended melancholia was understood.
      Humbled by your words.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. What a lovely anecdote this is! I don’t know whether this is fictitious or whether it was drawn out of your own emotions, but regardless, it was beautiful! The kind of maturity is spills and the kind of confidence it projects is great!
    Thank you for a lovely read! ^_^


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s