A Feeling Called Love

Dear Hachi,

I hope you’re doing something amazing in the cosmos out there. I wonder if you could see me. And if you could, do you think that we’d ever meet again? This world is so so big, I can’t measure it with my eyes. And in this big world, I have a home that I could not measure with my heart. There are times when I see a panorama of dreams and they are always as vivid as your innocent eyes full of magnificence.

I was at my parent’s place in my dream today, there was a big green mountain just at the back of their home. I was standing on the roof and the end of the world seemed near. In all of this, I could find only one companion by my side- Simba. He too was there in my dream. And ever since I’ve woken up I cannot help but miss him. I wonder if he feels as miserable too. I can write to you whenever I wish, I can talk to Mayank or any of my friends, and let my feelings out. I wonder if that poor feline-lover of mine misses me too, I wonder if he could express it the way I do, freely, fiercely.

Do you know that he’s as precious as you’re to me? He brings the best out of me. I never knew I was capable of this much loving. Leaving him behind and moving to Delhi surely feels sad. I wish I could go back to him, hug him and show him that I didn’t want to, that he’s always on my mind, that I just wish I could hug him every night before I fall sleep. I understand now, maybe you too feel the same, maybe you too wish that we could be together again. But we can’t be. How miserable that sounds, full of a sad melancholy twisting and tiding at our hearts. I wish I could see you for once at least, that will be a soothing breeze to my sore eyes.

I miss my nights where you used to push your body against my skin and fall asleep, no matter how hot the may nights were. The very same way I miss my mornings where Simba would sleep in front of my face, just to wait for me to wake up. And soon as I’d wake up, he would come, start licking my face and make that sound of grave hunger. My mornings just felt right, right by his side. The common thing you both share is that you both slept against my body whole night. In our case, you were gone, and in Simba & my case, it was me who left. Both of you are the two sides of the same coin I call love.

No matter when I flip it, one of you has to show up and then my memories would be dragged from my mind to my eyes, they’ll water. I wish I could express how grateful I’ve been to both of you, you both gave me the right kind of love at a very right time. I know that maybe I’ll never be able to see you again as you were, but I can hope that you’d come to meet Simba someday. Cats are multi-dimensional creatures I’ve heard and so are you. Now that I’m not there, I’d want you to be around Simba, make your acquaintance and don’t fight.

I’ll go back to Simba as soon as I could. I’m sorry that you’re not here and that’s partially my fault. I’m not with Simba, that too is my fault. None of you had a choice, it was always me. But I’ll take care of Simba, you’ll see. I won’t let you down this time. I won’t let him down.

How I can say that I love you when you’re a side of it to me. Give me a sign that you’re hearing me, I’ll wave.

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Dear Hachi,

Feeling of displacement is always nauseating. Our hands, legs and every crackling bone buried deep in the skins rattle up, every tissue feels severely disconnected. You see, I’ve tried my level best not to feel out of sorts, but one cannot control the things one lets control oneself. I wish I had made a wise choice, have I made a wise choice? A choice that leaves one displaced, not a hundred yards but hundreds of miles. Finding home and then just moving away from it takes your nerve and sinew, agitating them to see how strong they could get against the backdrop of eyes that made you feel safe. But honestly, I feel I’m sedimented, perpetual and helpless against the river flow. I wish I could still hold those hands every night before sleeping, touch that dark skin, sink in the same bedsheets, rest my worries in that pillow, look around and feel safe in those walls and wake up, wake up to the comfort of his eyes. It certainly is not easy to leave my place behind just because I have some duties, just because I have a career, just because I have to prove myself to the people. Tell me how is that right? Am I looking for validation? If I could take a bus right now, I’d do it and be in Dharamsala before the night falls. And I definitely could take a bus right now, but I’m a little bit unsure if that’d be wise. I haven’t felt it yet, how it feels to be away from him. Maybe it’ll make us grow stronger. So I’ll stay.

Hachi, things have changed a lot since last I wrote you. I have a cat, his name is Simba, and he is precious. There’s another puppy at home, his name is Bobo, and he’s white just like you. I never wanted to leave Simba behind, but you see, I’m dumb. Dumber than a donkey I suppose. I’m afraid if I’m honest, I’m afraid of losing a thing or two, but I’d always want to go back to my home once I’m done with the work.

I know that you’re out there somewhere, or maybe somewhere around me. Perhaps, you’re at many a places around me. You’re right here in my heart in one way, burning like a beacon. I hope you understand that this shift from trees to Delhi metro feels like cheating, from his face to all the other ones, from feeling to missing.

The beacon that you are tells me that I’ve found something fascinating inside of someone very ordinary and we’re going to be. No one else was going to find that, because it was no one else’s duty. So I know that we’ll make it. I’ll try.

Everything Was Perfect, And Nothing Hurt

The day I first saw you

I knew it will be death of me

I knew I’d long now all my life

I knew I knew no love before

I knew I’d die by your door

Bustling like a flock of songbirds

My heart will change shapes

Sometimes you, sometimes your clothes

Sometimes your smell or your wild passion

I knew I knew no man before

The way I know you by my hands

Mapping your skin like a spring evening

Windy, warm, shelter, home, my burial ground

The skin where my premonitions sink

Your skin where all my kisses find solace

Your skin like the softest bed ever made

By the hands of god, if there is any

Otherwise by the hands of love itself, there it is I know

Your skin where my thoughts linger

Your skin, against my breaths

Your skin against all of my fingers

And my body

And my soul

And my mind

It still wins, it always wins

I knew I’d lose, everyday, every evening

Every moment and every yectogram

That comprises my existence

Every shred of energy that flows through my senses

I’d lose again and again

I must die in your love crooning like a crane.

End of the day

Where from I begin to tell?

My heart for you, my heart, oh well!

Four months and gone, such heavy charm

I dream I lay by your arms.

Just hold me tight when my lips shake

Fall down and crumble, fall down and break.

Oh my man, my muse, my fate,

I wish I hadn’t been so late,

To woo your sorrows and begone

All the monsters you should’ve won.

Your eyes, your lips, your perfect face

Have pushed so many hearts to race.

They say that it isn’t pure,

How can be they so sure?

When hoards of tears we’ve endured.

Who is to say, if I may

Be a man and love a man the same,

To feel his skin, to feel his heart

So fragile as a hurt kid’s art.

Well, they won’t know how it feels

In your arms when my body reels.

Love is love and hate is hate

And being adored in one kind state

Which doesn’t come from all the lust

It takes heartbreaks to feel the trust.

And I found that in your life

Where came to end my endless strife.

So let them burn if they must so

We’ll just wave and let them go.

And if you fear, ever for once

Just know that a man is dunce

And so am I, and so are they,

But you’ll always find me at the end of the day.