Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Old Conversations

I like going back to old conversations.

Letter-writing went out of fashion a generation or two before us. Today, we neither have the perfume nor the handwriting. We have nothing to touch, nothing to hold. I would rather keep turning pages and pages of long, long letters but I try to make do with what we've got.  

I scroll up our chat-archive; up, up and up until I find conversations garnished generously with " :P ". Then, I scroll down slowly to find more " :) ". It may mean nothing but to me it marks an important transition. It's when the need to pretend you were just kidding when you said something nice gave way to saying it, and letting me know that you really meant it.

The conversation never ends. I know when you woke up and what you did all day. I know where you went, with whom you were, what you ate, what made you angry and when you slept. It really isn't a lot of important information but it made me feel really special knowing the ordinary things about somebody.

I like going back to old conversations especially those that we pretend never happened; those that we will never have again. I go back to them to find some lost happiness; and I do, but now it is tinged with pain. Not intense; but chronic.

So much has changed. It is awkward to even say "hi" anymore. Wouldn't it be better if we pretended to not know each other when we meet now? It feels worse to just shake hands and meet like acquaintances. But it doesn't matter. You and I will just be a fraction of all the letting go we will have to do in our respective lives.

Have I let go? I like to think that I most certainly have. It isn't really about  reminiscing anymore or even regretting. It is more about acceptance that all this is a part and parcel of life. Some stories find their conclusions while others just meander their way into oblivion.

If I have let go, why do I still go back to our old conversations? It is a tough one to explain, but I think I go back to feel sane. It would drive you crazy to feel a great pain in your shoulders for no reason, but if you saw your dismembered arms, it'd make sense that it hurts. The old conversations will always bear testimony to the fact that there was something we let go of.

An evening by myself usually leads my thoughts to strange places. I'd much rather step out, get a good cup of coffee, and find someone to have new conversations.


  1. I have written multiple poems on this very theme. I always go back to old conversations. If I can. Providence has a way of not letting me. Each time my laptop, desktop crashed... I lost most of my Yahoo chats. Accidentally while trying to archive... I sometimes deleted the gmail chats. I've lost really good meaningful conversations when my mobiles became no longer usable. So many ways to lose. The more I lost, the more I visited the conversations to etch them in my mind. But my mind is a blank slate. Give it two years... and I'll not remember that I had posted this comment here. :P It's good and bad that I cannot remember beyond a certain point. It works for me.

    Loved reading this piece Divya. Keep writing!


    1. Thank you, Jitu :-) Do share those multiple poems you wrote!

  2. Remember these lines...

    I keep talking to you
    long after we stop talking.

    Of nothing in particular...
    of everything under the sun...
    of pigs and paintings,
    of graduation and guns.
    of my grandfather and his grandfather...
    of families and fun. :-)

    It's a long night...
    it's a long walk...
    it's a long talk...
    It goes on and on
    again and again...
    a never ending dream.
    a background score...
    soundless music...

    In my mind...
    I keep talking to you
    long after we stop talking.

    - Jitu

    1. Love these lines:

      "In my mind...
      I keep talking to you
      long after we stop talking."

      Just Beautiful!

  3. Very, very well-written!
    Love your writing, Divya!

  4. Old conversations ... I hardly go back to them. Sometimes, but not much :-)