Seasons

From the imagination of the world, they learned that life was fleeting and only love was eternal. Time keeps moving and nothing remains the same. Either the people outside changed or we changed inside.

Before the world and after childhood, there was a period when they felt loneliness. Like darkness of a winter night- endless, nameless. And realized we need something more than ourselves to survive. And everything the world had said had lost its importance.

On their eighteenth year, somehow for a brief moment they touched each other’s life. For a fleeting moment, they made promises. For an endless moment they made love. And licked each other’s lips like life. Holding a heart where love came rushing out. Naive and fragile. They walked on the shores of the sea. They took each other far. Standing together into the night, looking at each other wide eyed.

No one knew how vulnerable were these days. They gave each other their whole. And became empty. Don’t you know, even the earth changes seasons. The last word — march! It is not in our hands to love. It is not we who begin it, so it cannot be us ending. You are a fate that was brought to me through chance. And I made design on you. She left behind a damp pillow.


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Each promise endured, each word a fatality. For it is our fate, and life is too short.


About Vatsal Surti

Vatsal Surti writes about the interconnections of humans. You can read his work at vatsalsurti.com or follow him on Twitter.

>> Vatsal Surti's author page

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