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Illustration by @luciesalgado
On the plane to USA, a trip I got as a sign of pride and care,
I happened to be the only one without a phone's glare.
Looking into a journal, next to me was a really old woman.
The journal was a burial ground to various secrets hidden.
She had eyes that awaited an ocean to cry.
I gathered some courage to ask her why
She told me that her husband passed away months ago
And this is where he wanted his ashes to be let go.
Story of two lives, an eager mind, and a really long flight
Now I know is the perfect recipe to keep you awake at night
She told me how they met when they were young and reckless
Only to be tamed by the love that they had; limitless.
Infertility would have made a perfect excuse to not marry her,
But it needed something much greater than that to pose a barrier.
She was the Sun to his Moon. Giving him light when it gets too dark.
And He was the ice cream to her moodiness. He knew exactly how to calm any spark.
Fights knew no boundaries, but neither did love.
For they knew that in front of every problem, their relationship was much above.
She loved him for his snores and his giant tummy.
He, for her crankiness and her fried eggs which were not so yummy.
Got too old to take care of the house, but never of each other.
They decided to move to an old age home, like always, together.
He always wanted to visit India, and she, Paris.
She decided to fly alone, after months of sitting in solace.
Being the crybaby that I am, I had already cried a river.
Holding her hand, feeling her touch, I began to shiver.
She held my hand tighter and said with wisdom on her face
" All cry at their own pain, but those who cry at others', are true grace."
We exchanged our addresses, in hope of writing to each other.
As we talked about life, I knew that this was the last time I would see her.
I tried to capture every single turn that her wrinkles took.
Longing to be kissed just once more; the way her lips shook.
They way her tired eyes, got filled with love when she talked about him.
And how thinking of the absence of him, they gradually dimmed.
When we parted ways, I couldn't stop stealing glances.
As if she was an angel. And to be able to see her again; very few chances.
After having written only one letter, one day a parcel arrives.
I opened it, and from her deathbed she writes,
"Never be afraid to love, my darling
For it comes to those who are daring.
You have a heart, so beautiful,
That to everyone who loves you, you are invaluable.
Listen to me, as I know happen to be one of them,
Live your life large, and devoid of mayhem.
Never hesitate to cry
For it is the ones who don't, that are wry."
Along with this note was her diary.
Reading which my eyes have gone weary.
With a photo of the man she loved with all her being,
She made sure that, someone would remember him, and his snoring.
Get out of your phones, and be alive.
And look at how my poetry just saved a life.
She didn't have any kin or even a family member,
But with this poem, she and her love story will go on forever.
You're right. After all what is my plight compared to those living in Syria. Its okay.
42644 Launches
Part of the Poetry collection
Published on December 31, 2017
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