Pickled Love
Chaitali Gawade | Lakshmy Mathur
Loving diary,
You have been following me with your eyes for quite a while now. My friends give knowing glances when they see you around, hanging within my circumference. You look away when I stare back and pretend to be engrossed in something else. I have finally decided to take things in my hand.
Loving diary,
You seemed surprised yet relieved with my approach. Isn’t it a woman’s privilege to be coy and wait for the man to make the first move? I hope you get the hint and I don’t have to do more work.
Loving diary,
We have been together for a week now. Our days are laughter and sunshine served in a bowl. Dreams unleash as your lips seek mine. Summer skies speak of intense longings.
Loving diary,
We came to each other with all our griefs, joys and yearnings. Our love is flavored with the first breath of a newborn. It closes in, on longing nights.
Loving diary,
My body scents of a woman newly loved. Days and nights twirl around me to get a whiff. Mysterious smiles flit across my face. The answer to ancient mysteries lies buried deep within me. I am drenched in the first rain of love.
Loving diary,
We had our first lover’s quarrel today. It came on our love like an eclipse that tries to hide the beauty of the moon and yet in the end has to bow out. Our love was all the more joyous and served laughter in crescents.
Loving diary,
Today I took the courage to believe in you, in us, in the promise and possibilities of our love. They were endless and promised journeys, beyond dreams. Together we skimmed through the waters of love, savored the taste of dawn and dusk.
Loving diary,
I have traveled a long way with you. They are mapped with rainbows and moonlight. There were also many potholes in our paths. We managed to avoid some while others succeeded in unseating us. We managed to get back on and continued to traverse new paths. It was a bumpy and eventful ride. Yet, exhilarating and soaring, like different horizons merging in one. Our whole universe was revolved around you, me and our daughter.
Loving diary,
You have moved to different horizons. The grief and pain was intense, yet beautiful. Dusk and dawn creep in carving your shapes and contours. I am left with cardboard prints of love. They have their use though. Helps me keep our love pickled, and dip in whenever I yearn for it.
Loving diary,
I sense the end of my journey and rush forward to embrace it. A wave has no identity without the meeting of the shore. It exists only to embrace the shore. My affair with love itself has been a glorious journey and I have even managed to grab a handful of stars along the way.
