“Times Forever Frozen Still”

About Ankita Mookherjee

An English lecturer by profession but a dreamer by vocation, the myriads of human emotions mesmerize me as I strive to lend words to moments of epiphany strewn around us.

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Dear Anant,

Before you go through this, I want to take you down the memory lane to October 20th, 2011. As the evening was playing hide and seek against the amber backdrop of the molten sky, our juvenile hearts were riding the joyride of new-found love with all its thrill and intoxication. We were walking along Prinsep Ghat, with the serene Ganges and the majestic Howrah Bridge against us – awkward, unsure and full of trepidation. I still vividly remember the moment when you suddenly dropped down on your knees and uttered those three overwhelming words which I had been dreaming about for months.

You were wearing your faded ol’ blue t-shirt and that hopelessly disarming smile and my 20 year old eyes had never witnessed anything so perfectly fairy-tale like. I remember thinking that I had to have you or I’d die…

I recall the deep rumblings in my tummy which were painfully delightful…

I reminisce how I would rewind and repeat the moment in my mind’s recorder until it got etched eternally in my memory.

They say love turns you speechless. I say No! The heady rush of oxytocin often makes you blabber the most insanely innocuous things in the world – of promises and pledges, of music and memories, of endless eternity…

When you’re young, everything seems optimistically everlasting but then, you just grow up. Just falling in love is not enough, you need to constantly and carefully prune, protect and water the fragile sapling from the ephemeral of Time.

The fissures and cracks started surfacing slowly, unobtrusively. Those long midnight calls abruptly cut short, those sudden pangs of longing to meet each other brought down to mere courtesy visits. You don’t always need concrete reasons for love to forsake you. Sometimes love simply grows tired of you and flies away to build its nest in a different tree. It must have taken a lot out of us, I’m sure. But I guess if I love you, I should let you move on.

As I nurse my broken, vulnerable soul in recuperation, I just wanted to let you know that there is a place where I spend in loneliness, with the pillow of solitude for company.

No longer yours,


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