Did it happen quietly..

Mekh, Lately I’ve been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.

How did you fall in love?

Was it loud enough for Neil  to hear your emotions? A prom with him between the sandstorms whilst the two of you caught the harmony off your sufferings.

Everyone dissolved into dust, scattered in the air, and it was his face, just his face that you could fathom amidst of all the motes. And you were never the same.

Or did it happen quietly?

Like, staring at the golden orb, skulking behind the horizon.
Your name scribbled on the back of his notebook — you, a stranger to his feelings; and his name carved on your pencil — he oblivious to yours.

Falling asleep one night, ever so slowly, dreaming about him, and waking up next morning with him by your side, yet having no memory of yesterday.

How did you fall out of love sweet heart?

Was it a whisper in his ears? A ‘but’ slipped after an “I am sorry”? Your emotions, walking out on you, dissolving into motes of dust, fading into the oblivion. And you, feeling like the last person breathing on Earth.

At first, did the food taste pale, the spices washed off the food? Did the paleness continue for another month? I bet, it soon started getting better. You got familiar with the pain that made a home in your bones. And you understood how happy you were without him. And then, the paleness was bitter, maybe it was the guilt of letting go of things; and everything else started tasting like sadness, again.

Or was it a choice?

Did you often use “I love you” to cover your mistakes? An apology, dressed and knotted in emotions.

Or are you now just friends, but in memories? Did you go out and try for things that mattered to you, even if they didn’t? Did you at least do wrong to him, so somewhere, deep inside his conscious, he could feel hatred for you?

Mekh, Did you look into his eyes, when you made the choice? His tears with the sign of pain and self-pity. His heart, painted with so many colours — pain, disgust, disrespect — that it turned black.

Shonu, I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.

Think about it…

I love you Mekh a lots.

Happy Navratri.



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