As a kid I always thought people separate and stop talking only when one of them no longer exists and that's also because God intends it that way.  Nothing else can make two nice people in this nice world to act otherwise ever. Growing up has meant revision of certain facts. Unlearning and re-learning.
I know for a fact now that people do separate and they do stop talking and yes they are both alive. Not just the people who exchanged not much and only casual pleasantries but also people who have been immensely close to each other. Maybe the most close to one another. One fine day they just stop talking. Either by mutual consent or otherwise but they do and life carries on and they pretend as if it is all right. They carry on with what they have been doing. The clock ticks by the hour they called or when they got the call and they pretend everything is fine, "call whom, what". They play, they sing, they work and they carry on without telling the other person about all of it rather any of it and they pretend that this is how it was supposed to be, this is how it had always been. Familiar songs, familiar terrains pass by and they are just there unmoved and maybe unconcerned.    
While they live this life, are they the one you knew. Or is it a different person leading a different life. Do they react in the same manner, talk in the same way, laugh at the same pitch.
Would I recognize you if someday our paths crossed somewhere. Would I find you or just a faint reflection of someone I once knew?  

Of locks and keys

I love my hair, not for the compliments it brings my way but for the fact then when left loose, almost always that is, it covers my face. A little tilting the head down and no one can see those warm tears quickly gushing below. They are my strength they are my veil. They are beautiful and mysteries they entail. It is my camouflage my terrain. To play with them to tussle them to tie them back in a tight knot when in pain, confused or with some important task at hand.
Tightly tied over some hours it gives me a slight headache and the moment it is loosened it is like freedom. Freedom to swish, to sway, to feel the wind, to follow the rhythm of its heart.

Just read it somewhere that when nothing goes right, just go left. What if left ain't left as a choice. What if you over ruled it much much long ago. Where do you go? Just sit there and wait for an air balloon to come and take you to a far far land not restricted to the lefts and the rights or just wait for a sinkhole to occur that gulps you down and transports you much beyond. They both are ways that lead you out. One towards the rainbow and the other to the clout....it is not always about the choices we make but more so the things that choose to take place.