On a silent cold November night…….

Thought that every single memory of you have effaced,


But it seems like the past still glows through my present life….

On a silent cold November night,

I turn back the pages to where it all ended,

Trying to furnish the beginning of that end…….

Silence creeps into my room and to evade its capture,

Switch on the PC and start on some music….

Keep on listening to this song called, ‘Sweetest November’,

I smile sarcasm and ponder on the irony,

On a silent cold November night…….

When I’m painting tragedy, the sweetness of pain breaks apart the evanescent light.

The painting on the canvass was to be finished perfectly,

But fate can’t stop interfering, now can he?

After all these years, I still wish I could have changed the ending,

Tear out those tragic parts and re-write a new story….

I wish I could paint a better one to replace the caricatured one,

On a silent cold November night, I prey all those that went wrong could be undone…..



And I wish upon a shooting star that perhaps I crossed your mid too tonight,

That I still hold a place in your heart, in your life…..

And when you pass by the places where we once used to be,

Just like I think of you, may be you too think of me….

And when you keep on changing the radio stations and you come across one of our favorite songs,

May be you think of me too and may be you just don’t….

A thousand different maybe’s, questions and possibilities cross my mind,

The faded ink on those dusty, yellow pages forms incongruent and congruent words, begetting the story of you and I,

As I write about you, maybe you’re writing about me too,

And maybe those dried roses were always red and never blue…..

Whatever it may be, but right now it’s of you I reminisce,

On a silent cold November night…….