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When a relationship is over, memories are all that remain. Memories that can be present in many tangible forms, sometimes there, sometimes faded.
You have become a midnight’s dream now, Distant and surreal, As it seems in daybreak.
You have become the intricate patterns of mehendi in my open palms, Faded after multiple wash, Only a hint of stain still remaining.
You have become the dried petals of rose inside my notebook, Crisp and fragile, Only a faint fragrance still emanating.
Even then, to this day, I feel myself lucky. How else could I have known love, But for your presence in my life?
Love is that ambrosia, Which can turn every poison into nectar. And only you have let me to know of this.
Published here earlier.
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An engineer by education, I am a civil servant by profession. A doting mother. An
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