Is Summer Just a Distant Hope | Aindrila Chakraborty
It’s quite cold here you know. The memories that once embraced me in a soothing blanket of warmth now clutch me numb in it’s scorching, icy hold. The thoughts that sent a surge of giddiness in me erupting gay giggles now plunge me into a freezing abyss of burning nothingness. Those brittle, fragile memories don’t weave you into the person wearing a bright smile and an oozing aura of mellow kindness anymore but a shady silhouette looming over my once warm bubble.
Do you remember those warm summer days when the warm gusts of wind whispered how our hearts leapt for each other? The bashful giggle of the rustling dry leaves when you held me in your embrace, so promising that I almost believed that no frost could penetrate through this shield so warm, so mellow. Do you remember those warm summer nights when we would count the stars and weave endless dreams for ourselves. Do you remember how the soft grass felt against our skin when we made those fleeting, firefly-like promises.?I still remember your face glistening under the faint glimmer of the summer sun as you sang those lies so agilely. The fireflies have been sent to their graves and here I am in the cold dark hole, with frostbites suffusing my skin as I stare at your back ebbing away and I see you taking the summer with you. I presume you don’t remember the huge tree wearing a halo of sunshine which stood as a testament for our love where we would talk with our smiles. Now my tears water the withered dreams sown on this barren, wintry land. You came and went like summer but you know what, the thrush still sings in this dreary winter as if beaconing the arrival of summer. The cold you have plunged me into, the cold which has seared the sinews of my soul that cold had to lead me to the other end of the tunnel. You changed like the seasons but summer does come back again doesn’t it? They say if winter comes can spring be far behind or is it just a distant dream of hope.
Written by Aindrila Chakraborty