Forgetting

FORGETTING

 

The more I try to forget
The more I remember you
You’ve crawled under my skin

 

I launder my heart daily using
Environment friendly softeners
But you are hard to bleach out

 

You are that tattoo on my
Memories whose imprint will go
Only when I leave for good

 

The more I try to forget
The more I remember you
You’ve crawled under my skin

 

In an about face, I try to remember you
I went to the spot where we had carved our names
How did we end up carving spots on each other?

 

We had begun life with a childlike naiveté
Full of illusions in the first flush of love
Cold reality shattered them to smithereens

 

The more I try to forget
The more I remember you
You’ve crawled under my skin

 

Extroverts learnt to be secretive and tactful
Pretending to be happy for the sake of family
Becoming artful in emoting love than being in love

 

We imploded within ourselves as we carried on
The charade of happy togetherness, a killer, as love’s
Creamy layer had evaporated, mere dregs remained

  

The more I try to forget
The more I remember you
You’ve crawled under my skin

 

I battle with regrets of what was n what became, wondering
Why did eternal season of love cave to the season of pain?
And wish this endless summer of regrets goes hastily into fall

 

The more I try to forget
The more I remember you
You’ve crawled under my skin

 

***   ***   ***

If You Forget Me
 by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

pictures from internet- not mine