Look back, Smile.

It’s the air. The weather. It inspires. It destroys. It makes you happy. It makes you sad.

And now, it’s raining. One of the most powerful weapons of nature. The saviour rain.

Ah! They associate rain with love. "Hey, its raining. Such a pleasant weather. I am missing you. I wish you were here”. Even my heart would’ve skipped a beat to read such a thing. But silly me. 

You are not gonna receive such a text, idiot. 

Ever again.

I am alone.

Rain makes lovers happy. I am a lover too. Then why does it not make me happy?

Oh wait. I am happy.

I’m alone.

But yes, my thoughts give me company. And how badly I wish they didn’t. I over think.

Minutest things and gestures can make me happy. And so do they make me sad.

Its rather sweet to sit alone in your room, tightly clutching a pillow in hand, and watching the rain drops fall. Like the tears fall. Sometimes calm. Sometimes wild. Sometimes just uncontrollable. Sometimes even happy. Pillow, please never let me go. I am alone.

You just know I over think.

But. I am alone.

“Achu, can anyone love him more than I do?”

“What kinda question is that! Never in this lifetime”

“ : ) ”

Argh,I must stop thinking.

People come in your life. People leave.  Nothing is pre planned. Nothing is fake. Nothing is wrong. But nothing feels right either.

The girl with the straight hair. Tiny little girl. Straight hair. We were friends. Hand cricket brought us together. Kept us together. The girl with a wavy hair. Typically conservative. Yet another friend. The guy who made me laugh all the time. And surprisingly, he still does. The comedian. And another one who considered himself the joker. So did others. Who kept asking for toffees, again and again, on my last day at that school. The ma’am who hugged me tight and said, I’ll miss you. The principal. I never expected her to do that. The idiots. A bunch of them. We played relay in the recess. And the sweethearts. Man, they were handsome. They still are. And I met them 2 days back. The girl who is beauty at its best. Whose cheeks turned tomato red when she failed to answer English sir’s question and his round of beating has started, from the other end. The nearer he reached, the red-er her face turned. The guy who was always with her. And me. My second neighbour. I talked to him a few days back. He flunked. Twice. And a whole set of girls, boys, idiots and fools. Innocent all.  All.  And we were happy.

The area friends were another lot. The girl who cared about nothing but make up. A guy who wore specs. Was studious. Who spoke in Malayalam most of the times. Another one who was too sweet. Another one who was naughtiness incarnate.

The drama. THE drama. The knowledgeable director who inspired. I admire him. A lot. The elder three idiots. The funny lot. I am in touch with two of them. The third one , I have no idea where he is. (Added later: I met him recently (11 july! ) and. What a change over mama! Well,

The Drama. We were Happy.

But the story ended. Way back in 2006 perhaps. I shifted. Shifting from B6 to A3, which was just a few minutes’ walk away, made me cry for weeks. And this was huge. All the way to a new place. Leaving behind the place which I called my home. The place which defined me.  Made me the way I am.

One thing about me: I can survive anywhere. I make friends easily. And adapt quickly. I talk a lot, make friends a lot. Well. These were many things about me!

So new place became my new home. Then home. My home. It molded me. Strengthened me. My views. My personality.  This is my home. And my previous home is now, my home town.

People come. People leave. People stay, their significance changes.

“Hey! I don’t know the story, but I can’t see you this way. I know you are not this. Weak. You must have loved him a lot na?”

“I still do”

“Oh.”

People come. People leave. Some stay, some walk away.

I knew her from the days in my hometown. But was never that great a friend. I guess we dint even speak then. Minus the “bye didi” at the farewell party. They were leaving. To place, which, I dint know then, would become my home too.

And back home, we became good friends. But it was when I was at my worst that we became the best of friends. Emotional attachment. Two of those who walked me out of depression in the later stages of that phase. The other one, is a sweetheart too. Mr. Liverpool. A mentor like person to me. An asshole. Both of them, I owe a lot to.

A lot lot.

Classes sixth to tenth. Were happy and sad days. More of happy less of sad, though. But then, every moment was totally worth it. Together we had faced it all. Lived it all.

Classes 11^th and 12^th, though we were a busy lot, fun never kept away from us. There. There I found the other two gems. Gems. Some part of me, I owe to them.

Awesome life it is.

People come and people leave.  And when some people leave, you  are dead. Simply, dead.

Well the absence of the description of one particular person is quite visible, If you know me well enough. Because people come and people leave. People stay or they walk away. And even if the stay, their significance doesn’t stay the way it was.

Well. I have one exception to this rule. Sadly or happily, just one. Neither will he leave, nor will his significance change.

One thing: I pretend. Sometimes. Sometimes very less, sometimes too much. But, I pretend. Everyone does.

Another thing: the exception is valid here too.

Infact its valid everywhere.

I know him from my hometown days. Was an introvert then. Still is. But, to the world. For me, I cannot see the introvert in him when with me. Otherwise, one hell of an introvert. Given an option to, he’d rather prefer going to Jupiter and settle there. Establish a settlement. His kingdom. I dint quite know then that this introvert would become the most important person in my life, ever. Of course, family goes without mention. Little did I realise that I’d start loving him in infinite ways. No, not that  love, I am talking about. Love is multi-faceted. But the emotion, just one. Unique. To tease him with his nickname and feel happy when he felt weird, it was love.  Running to fetch his clothes from his mom because he needed to get out of the black and black suffocating clothes, it was love. Instead of having my lunch and roaming around with the gang, to get food for him and make him eat, it was love. To force him to propose the girl whom I presumed he liked, was love. To get angry at him at the minutest things, it was love. To get the Lays packet of his favourite flavor, it was love too. To calm him down when he gets highly irritated at the things going on in life, at the world, because he was at a level little higher than the common brains of the common man, was love. To bring him back to normal when he was down in the dumps, was love. To grow with him, to see him growing, into a better, finer person, a charming young man, was love. To be with him always, no matter what, is love.

And I said I am all alone.

I lied.

I am not alone.

Its still raining. And nature plays the saviour. The rain washes down the emotions. Purify the feelings. Calms me down. The rain. The magician rain. And just like a raindrop full of life, the tears fall. Emotions. Happy ones.

The guy sings in the background,

“Dekho tum na mere hi bane..”

And I hold my pillow tightly.

Never let me go.