It’s blue and vast and it separates us.

Phone calls used to end with smiles. They used to end with smiles.

They used to end with us holding our phones against our chests and smiling. There would be days when those smiles would fade into laughter at silly yet meaningful conversations which would then fade into deep thoughts and … smiles.

Life never stopped moving. The funny little roller-coasters on which we were seated met somewhere along the way, shared tracks and moved along together. We stretched out our hands slowly and tentatively to embrace something new, something we knew existed but had never experienced. Perhaps, something we might have expected or hoped for. Or wished for?

The tracks took us up, took us down and took us in little hoops too. Along the way, we were joined by other roller-coasters and those that were already with us slowed down and sped up. We went this way and that way and as long as we were on the same tracks we always knew how to find each other. When the sun set into a roller-coaster low, we would raise the tracks to the sky, with what magic we possessed together. It’s a powerful kind of magic. The kind that lone stars shine for. The kind that makes the light around the moon do funny things. The kind that makes the wind soft and warm. The kind of magic… that sets your roller coaster aglow.

And when the tracks dived into water we were two specks floating in it. “You’re that speck in the water and I’m that speck in the water… we’ll always be together.”

And then life moved on, onto new tracks. Two separate tracks. Your hand seems very far away now. And it has become harder to find you in this new mess.

We call it distance. The volume of water has suddenly increased. I find myself slowly drowning.

When the sun sets on a roller-coaster low, there isn’t enough magic in me to raise up the tracks into the sky, nor enough strength to hold myself above the surface. When I try, somewhere along the way the pillars break and it seems harder now to lift them back up again. I’m only one, a little one.

There are times when we still reach out, shout over the noise of our roller-coaster wheels against the tracks and perhaps there is a chance of a smile. But friction and speed pull us further away. There is frustration in your voice and hopelessness in mine.

Touching your hand would make it all better. It would set the tracks aglow and we’d raise them up higher to the stars.

The little pond has grown into an ocean and the two specks, though still connected, find themselves floating away.

Phone calls, now, don’t always end in smiles.

And I almost never see your smiling face.

I cannot touch your hand.

You and Me.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Counting UFOs
    Sep 12, 2011 @ 00:48:57

    I don’t know what I can say, but I promise you it will get better.
    Hug. 🙂


  2. Krishna Shenoi
    Jan 31, 2012 @ 20:18:00

    The roller coaster isn't over yet. Looking far ahead with my special binoculars, I see that the tracks will meet soon. They will meet soon.

    We can wait.

    Until then. 🙂


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