We Are All Worth Two Days of Mourning

I once met me who stopped by

just to narrate a dream,

"After the two days of mourning,

my friend just went to work,

accepting that I won't be at there

today or the coming days.

On her way she stood at the cafe,

staring at the picture on the

glass window, of coffee

being spilled out of the cup

in the weirdest way,

I saw her smiling, probably

of the joke that I made of the picture.

But she kept going, smiling

at people that we were familiar

with on the way.

She had the sympathetic conversation with the ice cream seller at the crossroad,

And their words carried my name

as the most important syllable.

She did this for two days,

and just let her life going

with some occasional

mentioning of my name

like a guest role.

So did my maid,cat,and books.

Their new caretakers sympathised

for being abandoned unexpectedly

and got thrilled at their new ownership.

My picture was framed and kept

at the most attractive

corner of the house,

they looked at me and talked to

me like taking a pill.

I felt happy at the anniversary

and the second anniversary

and the anniversary after that,

but never for another.

They were all dull and boring

and less genuine like

the food served at those.

All went with their lives,

except some who

also did the same

after one or two years,

of drinking and other addictions.

And I saw faces,of me,you and many at the wall watching

how invisible we became

in the lives we were so visible

and smelling the seasonal

roses that we get

and shaking hands with

people we forgot likewise.

And that time the cookies

tasted different".

And thus she patted my shoulders

and whispered

"We are all worth two days of mourning"

A.C

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