There is something about that goodbye
That you never got to say
When you were in such a rush
Of course you couldn’t have known
That she was in a greater hurry to leave.
You had no reason not to believe.
But before that, she hurried outside
To catch one last glimpse of you.
Asking others why you left so soon?
I can ask the same. So soon?
You know how the heart sinks
when the phone rings urgently
in the wee hours of morning
Like a definite bringer of bad news…
That’s how I feel each time
I think of that day.
Like a conversation got cut
in the middle over the phone.
Like a vinyl record that got stuck
Over a jarring note.
Like watching your child jump
Just before he falls.
Like the sounds of ghosts
In empty halls.
Like a wrong lane,
Like a missed train.
Like a premonition
Like a deaf musician.
There is something about last conversations
That stir up unsettled longings
Wishing for that one more second
the one moment of prolonging.
How long does it take to say goodbye?
Forever, did you say?
Why was I in such a rush that day?
P.S I’m sorry I did not say goodbye that day…