I wonder what beauty life holds for us. I have so much in me to write but still the words keep failing me. There is so much more than ever can be in this very moment of our existence that it is only the infinite time that separates our souls. I f you had a spirit just like us, my Love, then would you be like I always imagined you – pure and void of any imperfections. There is so much, so much we have missed in our journey together but I guess that’s the way life is and by its own virtue – being mysterious, cloaked by its own veil of emotions, shows us the path to newer lands and adventurous journeys. The road that we tread upon, my Love, is long and weary too. I have always found you in my mother, in my father, in my sister, in my brother and in my friends. You were my best critic when you came to me as my foe but that was not for long. Few of us believe, my Love, that your kindness is your strength, not your weakness. I am sad that it took me such a long time in such a short span of my eternity, that I understood why you are and why you will be, my Love. I believe that love can happen in a quantum of sempiternity or not have touched the core at all, ever. You are so many but you come to me as one. As it is my inconsistencies and inability, perhaps bounded by the very physical structure that I possess, which most rationalist call the mind, to comprehend and realize the magnitude of your presence as well as the little place that you dwell in me, which most sentimentalist call the ‘Heart’.
Can we take a stroll by the lake, O my Love? We can share an ice cream while the soft breeze plays with your tresses and with the glitterati of the waters too, only the former being the center of my jealousy. I am nervous too. You have come a long way, coming to see me, hiding away from your relatives, concealing your identity, which has become a part of your nature. You pretend to be afraid. But that is a momentary lapse of grace that you adorn. I don’t blame you for this. Men have destroyed so much of you. But I really admire you for believing so much in me. It gives me faith, faith which provides man to achieve the impossible, happiness and the strength to stay right and strong in life’s toughest highways. Of course, unlike highways, men here don’t have rules to guide them. They make their own. I know that you got bruised along the way. I can see the pain behind your soft smile. I feel guilty. So sure, you always had been, about time and what we will be, what we will mean to you and what you will transcend into. You keep silent, as you have been since the beginning of time. I know that you are as divine as any god that I have ever imagined to man, any angel that the weak and the weary wish upon and any goodness that this earth holds forth to her children. I am so lucky to find you, my Love.
But as you look into my eyes with the innocence of the unborn, I feel that I too have not respected you all my life. I was not there for those who were there for me when I was blue. I did not care for the weak and the distressed when they came and begged for their survival nor did I look after the old who wanted to be free from their loneliness. I, the modern man, have forgotten you. Today as this day ends, so does the ignorance about the superficial arcade of my pride, broken by time. As you draw nearer to me, the velvet satin bedizening you pulls you away from me. Even the non-existent entity like the fabric knows what you will become, when you come in touch with my inconsiderate psyche and hard-hearted organic presence. Please go away my Love, as you will get hurt in your duties—“ To love me”. I cannot accept you as a part of my being. Go back. Your smile fades into tender tears, which can even overwhelm the dark corners of a butcher’s guts with munificence. “What have I done? I care so much about you. I am afraid. I may hurt you. I may lose you again forever. Please forgive me. I did not mean anything wrong.” These are the words that I say. As I did always.
You take me by your hand and lead me to a park, nearby. The sun is setting down, slowly after doing his daily chores of provision to the millions. You point your delicate finger to a distant sight of young laughter. Children playing. I see my childhood in them and a feeling of nostalgia arrests me. “We live through them”, said you standing beside me, just like a queen whose rule extends only to a man’s heart. Me. Yet she is satisfied. Men have never been.
I can still remember you say, thirty years since then, those words clear to my ears even now. ” I live through you. You through me. Life lives through death but Love lives only through love. Everybody is born, few live and some die. You just have to choose how do you want to end all of this. In this never-ending story of time, we were always together and we will always be. You just have to hold on tight”.