To Unlearn Your Love


The call got disconnected before I could say "Stop!", before I could plead one last time to that person, individual, to still hope, to still consider the morning after the night. The call got disconnected as the night enshrouded me into a raging storm of Whys and What Ifs. I could call back but the number will be switched off, I could leave a message but it won't work the same way. Social networking sites, the thought-dump of so many of us, weren't quite working for me. When you are angry, you can still mutter a few words. But this was rage, an anger so pure that the mouth couldn't fathom a few words. Suddenly, the cold night didn't seem cold enough.
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Aurindam Mukherjee