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,
P
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