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 11th and 12th, 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.
