I am in a room where all the windows and doors are closed, just like your heart looking at the dense silence which is seeping in. The faint light of the laptop is trying to touch me piercing the darkness. My heart heavy as the ice-cube in bourbon. There is no noise outside but jarring inside. What do you want me to do with this sleepless nights and never stopping memories? I cant bear the sound of these memories.

For this reason.. for this very reason, I try to make my days eventful. Giving time for everyone who is asking me for help. But see, these sleepless moments do not have any mercy. This heart of mine digs the long buried memories and looks at it as if looking into  a photo album.

I do not know why I am behaving like this. May be because today, your memories want to tear me apart or may be they are quite successful at that. Leave it. Where are you? Are you near? Are a far away? If so how far away? What will you be doing at this point of time. May be you are sleeping like a baby or may be you’re arguing with yourself over a piece of Ayn Rand’s writing or just thinking about tomorrow. What ever it is! You are living.

The days are running so soon. Its surprising to believe that I have spent 91 days with you, day and night. It was never easy to approach you. You projected yourself as a bundle of confusion.

To like you, to get liked by you and to make you understand that ” An unconditional and pure love can cross your path at any given point of time and it can follow silently till the end even if you fail to notice” were so big a task for me. And that too the days with you, my position was like a prisoner behind the bars trying to prove his innocence.

The clock turns 12. Its the start of just another day. Same dates, Same days and same months again and again but the events are different. Are we saving the memories in these dates like we take a cup of water from the running stream? Does it happen involuntarily for us? I dont know what pleasure it brings for these dates when it brings front the memories which are long forgotten.

See.. In a 26th like today of some month I was travelling to some place and you came running to central station from your work to send me off. It was a thursday like tomorrow when we decided to go to temple together. Again on a 13th you left me. Our relationship stopped abruptly like the fountain pen stops writing when the ink runs out. What do I say about that which started and ended in the same date like a small circle?

Do you remember that day? You were talking like a well seasoned critic and a experience teacher pointing my short comings. With tears ready to trip down and no words to find, I still enjoyed your tone and the way you spoke, the way your eyes told that whatever came out of your mouth was lies.

Psst! What am I trying to prove here? Why am I writing such a long story when there is no possibility of you reading this? I dont know. But after losing you, your address and phone number, after my efforts to change your opinion about me,  where do I vent the words that seem to burst out of my heart?? Let these mails without the address may wander in space just like my love for you. I wish to remind you a line of a poetess “The absence of love only increases my peace of mind” .

At this point, there is nothing to share with you. There were so many things that had to be told to you when your world started pushing me out.

My dear Chilakamma, Its fun to generalize things but it is equally dangerous. When you realize the truth as truth, most of the times its just a passed second.