A.V

I don’t call people friends easily. I don’t attach quickly. I don’t let myself care too much. Somewhere along the way I grew into a ghost. I observe quietly. I avoid eyes that linger too long. I keep my guard up while others gossip, tearing apart names that aren’t present. I walk away knowing this isn’t for me. I would rather sit in a calm, empty classroom, sunlight spilling into the darker corners, books open, songs moving softly through the air. Maybe a quiet presence beside me. Not talking much. Just being. I read somewhere once, “While finding the right person, don’t forget to have fun with the wrong ones.” But I don’t know how to do that. In the end, I am left with people I can talk to, but not experience life with. A.V

My Father died a few months back. Stage 4 cancer, kaafi time se pata tha, wo zyada lamba nahi jee paayenge. Ab yahan aaya hoon apne dil ka gubaar bayan karne. Abhi main, bas shant hoon, waise wali shanti jab samundar ke upar kaale, ghane baadal bas… ghumad rahe hon. Toofan se pehle wali shanti. Pita ji chale gaye, uska itna dukh nahi, he wasn't present for more than half my life, toh kabhi unse sahej hi nahi ho paaya. Dard toh uske liye lagta hai jinhone hume janam diya. Aap jaante hain, jab tak wo shareer jalna nahi lagta, tab tak mann mein ek hi khayal rehta hai ki arre yeh toh bas so rahe hain, abhi uthenge, hasenge, hasaayenge, aur abhi muskuraayenge. Apno ki rundhai hui cheekhein abhi bhi kaanon mein goonjti hain. Pita ji ka mrit chehra aankhon mein abhi tak jala hua hai. Staring into the pyre, as the flames rage to engulf, going back there the next day to collect half-burnt bones. Mann tab tak shant ho chuka hota hai, saari bhavnaayein  agni ke dhue ke saath ud chuki hoti hai...

The soft, cold hands of yours that warm when they meet mine. The moments I lose myself in your dark eyes. Your head resting on my shoulder. Your long hair, tied in a braid or gathered into a bun. You telling tales. The times you mischievously pop balloons, or wear the gentlest smile. This little heart aches, wanting to be held in your embrace, wanting to experience you like a butterfly in motion. Wanting the sun to shine over you, warming your cold hands and feet. For I know you are not afraid of storms. You bear them quietly, speaking the name of Radhe Krishna. But, it will take time to learn how to bear missing you. A.V (Sorry for hitting you on the head with the pillow so hard, Was just messing around...)