Monday, December 24, 2012

of Hello, Good Bye and Everything in between

Dear Sister Ar,

This is how the first sentence of a long delayed letter sounds like. You get it? No. Good, Cos I don’t get it either. Let me see now from where I can give it a start.

26 days away from being 23, the only thing that I am sure of about myself is that nothing heals me more than writing a letter. The text word has its own sense of medication. I now know how it feels to allow introspection to happen in narratives. I now know why people say that writing a diary is important when you are dysfunctional in some ways. They are never writing a diary, they are merely talking about the process of writing letters, letters to self. I am yet to find salvation in the process as alienated as that. I am weak, I like being heard and I choose you as a medium to have that release. I hope you don’t find that barbarically boring. I can’t stop now even if you do, sorry for that.

Let us start by pleasantries. How are you? Do you realize that it has been like a month since we last had a more than 2 minute long conversation? Odd it sounds but time do fly. I am fine. I am in the process of redefining the word “home” again.  I am living alone, it’s a small room but it is fun and it is peaceful. I can hear my thoughts more clearly here. I feel something within me moving towards peace. I might not be sure if it is saturation, process of giving up/growing up (yes they mean the same thing) or just another bookmark in the journey filled with confusions as the only constant but what I do know is, it is relaxing. 4 am on a foggy morning, 24th December 2012, when a world is burning in turbulence out there, I am closer to peace. I feel nice speaking that out. how are you? I miss you. I know you miss me too. Thanks for that smile that now has come on your face.
I will talk about people and places and I would leave most of the nomenclature on your guesses.

A, is a small room, it has beautiful curtains, the sound of a child in the background coming from a neighborhood that I am suppose to not necessarily care about. It is liberating, it has freedom, it has a confession arena where when you close the lights you can face your demons. It has no one that would judge your bare body or your feeble tears, it has no one that would make fun of you when you would dance to katy perry songs, it has no one that would give you a weird look when you get teary hearing Axl Rose sing or Manchester united score. A, is awesome. It involves money bleeding but it gives you a calm sleep.

B, is still missed. She is missed in every breath I take. I feel the need for her like somebody working in the field for a quarter of year in burning sun would feel the need to see the vegetables grow post rains. She is in me, around me. I love her, I understand love because of the virtue of the past that I have with her. The more I miss her, the more I am sure that I am never ever ever going back to her. B, is like the feeling of first smoke of the day, or the Ambi pure room fresher release that follows it which brings white lily smell everywhere. B is in every moment. Omnipresent, but at peace in a page already turned in the beautiful book called life. B is love. B would remain the love till there is soul enough in me to feel the warmth of life.

C was fun. I had a great time there. I miss that place. The place I am sure misses me too. I know that is metaphorical but what is life all about, if we stop the process imagination. I never wanted to leave it in the way I did, but I wanted to leave it since forever as u already know. I now understand why. I smile at the time spent there. I feel nice that I don’t feel the need to ever go back again.

D is hot. She takes care of me even when I never allow her to do that. It is funny how in some other age, in some other time, my perception of the perfect city life would involve the need of someone exactly like D but now when I have it, I feel it can never have me.  You know how I always used to talk about the objective idea of having a separate body and a separate soul. It unintentionally or intentionally is getting executed in me. I use words like “like” where I would have used “love” in my past self, and keep repeating “relationships are not beautiful, love is”. What I really want to say in the paradoxical thesis of choices to her, is that I miss B and I miss her in the way that every small touch, every small whisper made to me somehow makes sense only when it comes from B. I am programmed to see her as an image of god for the rest of my life and I am helpless, helpless like a junkie chasing his drug of the idea of eternity with B and no one else. I contradict myself here because I am making no efforts to go back to B but I understand this equation in a way very clearly, it is like those beautiful things that you know but cannot explain and find peace in letting them be.

E is beautiful. She deserves blessings and nothing less. I cannot see her in pain, somebody as pure as that person deserves a universe of love and complete devotion. I make her smile. I am afraid while doing so; I never want her to get dependent on me for the smiles. I don’t know how to stop that from happening. She is perfect.  She is like my last link to delight of being with the purest form of human heart. I pray for her every day. May she gains strength, good health, balanced mind, and an independent set of things that can make her happy without ever getting the same exclusively from a single source like one hobby or human being. That has too much of risk involved. You know why.

F is boring, I hate the place but since I am only going in the nights I have developed a certain kind of liking to it too. It is not rewarding but it consumes time and energy and sometimes at some age in some phase of life, that consumption plays a critical role. It wears your body out and save yourself from wearing your own soul out instead. I am not satisfied there but rather than pre concluding my affair with the place at peace, I would choose the term truce. I smile there sometimes. I make people around me smile too. That is a reason in itself to exist and go. Rest, let’s see.
Write back. I miss reading you. Ask questions about F and I would answer them.

Tell me a novel or a movie that you have just seen, let us get to talking. Talking of the sort that involves things, places and not people, talking of the best type that there is.

Love and Blessings,
Your nocturnal brother,

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