This Journey Is Fun

 

This Journey Is Fun
I didn’t want to part ways with her on the note we did, but there wasn’t an option. A lot of explanations were to be made, I wish I had made everything clear to her when our disagreement reached its zenith, but I simply  couldn’t find the words to say it all in.  

 

There was so much to say and yet  all the words in a dictionary seemed to be insufficient to convey all I had to say. A disagreement, however petty, was certainly not what I looked forward to, particularly at the stage our relationship was. It was still a bud that was to blossom into a flower sooner or later.

 

We were out on a warpath over a trifling matter. It didn’t matter what the issue in question was, what mattered was that we were deflected in completely different directions because of it.  Both knew it was going to be a long time before both of us saw the ocean before us in the same     colour.

 

An ocean had always been blue, but both of us had to perceive the same tint. On second thoughts, we might as well drown in the ocean before us before this happened; the worst part of it was we didn’t have a lifeboat to save us. Without any shorelines or familiar landmarks to guide us, we were certainly headed for  a disaster.

 

Quite a heavy storm was rumbling around us as our lives went on, its echoes were louder than the bells that had rung in our hearts when we were introduced to each other only a few days ago.  Both of us were trembling with fear and apprehension  with the thought of what might have happened if we had given way to our emotions.

 

Both of us had been in the middle of a  storm when we were brought before each other; the incumbent moment was like a cool breeze in the mid of a storm. We were madly in love, but with different persons; our love-stories had simply screwed up.

 

Quite a bit of sunlight from the heavens had been obliterated by the clouds while these thoughts ran through our minds. Dark and heavy clouds had done their part very well.  Thunder and lightning added smoke to fire.

 

Regardless of the sonority of the sound of the rumbling clouds, I held her hand all the more tightly.  I was drowning in an ocean, and yet  I was parched with thirst for love. I held her hand all the more tightly.

 

I almost wished my grip could articulate all those words and even sentences there were to be said. It was a beautiful moment and I didn’t want to let her hand or the moment go.

 

I treasured it as a reward in exchange for all that I had been through. I quietly re-enacted a long chain of episodes, each one pathetic, tragical, and humorous at the same time that had been a  part of my recent past, but shrugged them off in a while.

 

They had been quite unpleasant, but life was moving on. I’d saw some greener pastures ahead if I had her as my companion; I felt sure the quarrel between us was only a slight patch of rough area. I knew I could leap over it like it were a puddle of water.

 

I felt myself in heaven while she was before me, but the dispute    between us was like a thick wall separating me from heaven. I badly wanted to bring the wall down. I wish I could run a bulldozer over it.

 

The very point of disagreement was a farce because it was only a few days ago that we had  been introduced to each other. We were yet to uncover all the  novelty  of our companionship; novelty has always had a thick veneer.

 

We had looked at a bright future that glittered with a golden glow.   The sun’s rays lingered for a while before plunging into the horizon. There wasn’t a way I could hold it while it was in the horizon.  

 

All the same, an ecstasy ran through me while she was with me, but it was bent on running away to the other side of the world when she left me.

 

Her company was like a ripple in a large pool of water, like a sudden movement in a stagnation. She had stepped into my curiously lonely life at a point when I was in love with someone else, I felt sure I was cheating on her while I held my betrothed’s hand.

 

 Anyway, I was dying to climb to the summit of a tower and look at a field where happiness lived.  

 

Quite a bit of gloom and solitude thrived at the tower’s base.  Something stronger than gravity held me down at its base. I had been soaking myself with quite a bit of misery and woe at its base, but I had now had enough of it.

 

 I wanted to be free of the guilt I had attached with being in such a place. The tower was accusing me of a sin I had not committed.

 

 I wasn’t responsible for the mess my life was in. My whole world was mourning a loss. Sobbing of the trees  beside the tower was expressively manifest. It had grown quite loud. I didn’t like it.

 

I badly wanted to dive into happiness’ own country and be there forever and a day. It was somewhere nearby, I knew it. I only have to jump off the tower.

 

This is the toughest proposition at the moment. My leap may as well land me in a heap of brambles and I might hurt myself  quite badly.

 

I suddenly lost acquaintance with my present. It was gone I a jiffy, without leaving an idea of my  past or future.

 

This is what happens when you are in love with the journey but at the same time scared of reaching a destination which you know is going to arrive sooner or later.

 

 

Jab We Met

Jab We Met
Today’s  experience has been so mesmerising that the past five hours stand out like an oasis in a desert. The oasis is full of green and fresh vegetation and water.

 

It has made several spots of joy and glee on my memory that continue to expand every single second. They shall cover all my memory soon. I shall forget everything  else  quite  soon, I hope.

 

I wish I could go back to her house only to capture all details  of her room once again. I wish I could relive every aspect of every minuscule moment I spent with her again and again. I wish I could stretch the past five hours into an eternity.

 

 We came back from her house just a few hours back, and it seems an   age has gone by since we met. Each aeon of time has been wailing her loss ever since.

 

I wonder if I share these feelings with her. We met for the first time; it made the world around me fresh and new like I had stepped in a room for the first time.

 

My room has acquired a totally different picture since I came back. My room is the same as the one I was in before I met her, but it doesn’t seem to be the same.

 

She seems to be in every corner, although she isn’t. No one is.

 

My room is never going to be the same again. Living in it isn’t going to be the same ever again.

 

Like me, my room is also going to wait for her to be here. I only hope it doesn’t shed any tears while it awaits her.

 

She is scheduled to be here soon, in a few days. At least a few blanks in my life are soon to be filled.

 

Life is to be filled with hope and expectancy now. Zeenat stepped an inch closer to reality today.

 

My life made a lot of promises to me a long time ago, but it went back on them when the time to fulfil them was here. I often wonder why life makes any promises to its subscribers when it can’t keep them.

 

We spend quite a bit of our lives in the hope they shall come true. We go to all ends possible to see them in a true form, but only a few of them turn out to be true.

 

Most of them remain dreams throughout our lives. They fill our lives with challenges and prepare us for more challenges everyday.  

 

Practically, everything good or bad in our lives begins with a dream. All our efforts are directed at making them true, but some of them go wrong once in a while.

 

Dreams are flashed before our eyelids to make us make efforts we make to see them enacted live before us. We strive and struggle everyday to see them in a concrete form.

 

I saw at least  a few of these  dreams today. I wonder what efforts I shall make in my life to see these dreams come true. I hope they are good enough.

 

I saw a lot more dreams once upon a time. I made my efforts to see them enacted live before me, I shall keep up my efforts, and I hope at least a few of them do come true.

 

I suddenly realise that my room is better than any dream. It is as bright and airy as it was yesterday, but when I think of her room, it appears to be better than mine.

 

Her presence, her company was what was special about it. My room shall also acquire the same traits when she is here.

 

I don’t want to be alone in my room. I want to be with her, I wish I could spend the rest of my life with her.

 

Her company made her room appear more spacious than mine. My room seems to have shrunk since I left it a few hours ago. Its walls have begun to converge on me.

 

I’ve begun to feel stifled in my room. It lacks the charm and lustre it once had.

 

This is quite like coming back from a visit to a place as glamorous as the Taj Mahal. Looking at even a replica of the Taj is going to remind me of her room for a long time.

 

I wish I could go back to her room to locate all I miss about it.

 

The magnificence and grandeur of the Taj wasn’t a part of her room.  All the same, her very presence made the experience terrific and splendid.

 

I wish I could fill her in to supplement  all that is missing in my room. she is to be in my room in a few days, the deficit is going to be filled in soon.

 

Her being her is going to make my room as good as her room. everything is going to be bright and shiny.

 

I realise it was her presence that added to the values of her room.  It is what made her room all the more bright and congenial.

 

I badly miss her presence in my room. My room badly misses her.

 

All said and done, I can’t pin-point what exactly I miss about her. I did look at her closely while with her; I almost  made her uncomfortable with my stare. But then, I was also subjected to a similar scrutiny while in her room:  it was  a pleasure.

 

We were before each other for the first time in our lives. I did click a few pictures of the novelty before me to preserve the moments in a permanent form, but I couldn’t capture the excitement within me.

 

I’m sure she was as much excited , although she didn’t betray any of it.  

 

I wonder if it is her face I want to look at again. If things go as planned, I shall have to look at it every single day for the rest of my life.

 

I only have to wait for a few days.

A Ship In A Storm

 A Ship In A Storm

I had embarked on an uncharted voyage upon rough seas.  A storm was doing all it could to keep me on my toes round the clock.

 

I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t have closed my eyes for a single second considering the hail and rain created by the storm.

 

A dissonance found itself deep within me when I thought of the uncharted nature of the route before me.

 

No one had been on it ever before; but there was a thrill of being the first too; I was going to create history!!

 

It was like moving through a dark tunnel for the first time, without a light to guide me, and without even   without an end in sight.

 

What I could see around me was a storm that threatened to blow everything up. The storm ravaging around the ship I was on was of a typical sort I had never encountered before. 

 

A wind blew at a very high speed, it created abrasions on my face, but thankfully, it didn’t throw me aboard the ship.

 

I’ve been through many storms, but none has had the potential  to lift me off my feet.

 

The incumbent one was a bit stronger, but I remained on my feet throughout, but whenever the ship ran into a beach on an island, I got a jolt.

 

Every leg of my voyage introduced me to a new island I had never been on before.

 

All islands brought completely new challenges before me; I did devise some new and typical defences against each of these challenges, I learnt quite a bit.

 

These lessons of life were given only to me, so I did feel a bit special when life stepped before me specially to give me some tuitions. These were not given to anyone else but me.

 

I feel honoured when I think of this.

 

I was being rewarded for some of my good deeds. I wonder if these rewards shall continue to shower themselves once my good deeds are exhausted.

 

I don’t think so. I wish I had done some more good deeds.

 

I jumped into thin air when I thought that my good deeds shall be  a solution to the dryness in my life.

 

At the same time, I couldn’t be sure if the new experience was to be any better than the experiences I have already had.  

 

I might as well be headed for disaster.

 

A dense fog surrounded me; visibility was reduced to only a hundred metres.

 

I wondered if the impending disaster lay beyond the fog or if the dimmed visibility of the path before me was the actual disaster I was headed for.

 

The fog was quite intimidating.

 

A part of me wanted to go back to the safety of land I was on a while back.

 

I looked for the plank of wood that had brought me aboard, but it had been removed; second thoughts were going to result in a worse disaster than the one waiting for me.

 

All the same, I was headed for something new. The very thought of encountering a novelty pulled me back, but the very excitement of encountering a new experience prodded me to move on.

 

Anyway, there wasn’t any scope for second thoughts now. I was already halfway through the plank, parts of it I had trodden on were already being effaced.

 

There wasn’t anything to go back on. I only had to look ahead, there was only a destination to think of now.

 

My destination lies a long way ahead, I didn’t have an idea of what it was or what it looked like when I set out on this voyage.

 

I set out on this voyage because I didn’t have an option but to move on and I still don’t have an option but to keep moving on.  

 

I don’t even have an idea where this route that is to take me to.

 

I have a long way to go before I touch my destination, I know, I must tread on and on and on over land and over rough seas for a long time.

 

The voyage over the sea isn’t exactly exhausting, but the very lack of a defined destination makes it quite a weary one.

 

A view from the crow’s-nest isn’t very encouraging; there is only  a deep sea all around.

 

The sea had been churning up all sorts of potions even while I was aboard the ship. I can see only a  thick froth as a manifestation of the broth being prepared.

 

Perhaps my destination lies concealed beyond these frothy waves. I should move on.

 

The voyage has become quite tiring now. Moreover, the ship I am aboard has been moving quite slowly.

 

I often wish someone were to give it a hard push. even a vague idea of what I am headed for is certainly going to alleviate some of the stress.

 

On second thoughts, I don’t need a clear image of what I am headed for. What is important is that I must keep moving on.

 

For a while, I couldn’t help thinking of the face I saw behind the froth. It was the sweetest face I had ever seen.

 

It was like a lighthouse guiding ships over turbulent waters like what I was on. I began to wonder if she was the destination I was headed for.

 

She was smiling at me as if she knew she was responsible for all that I had been through. She seemed to enjoy the dilemma and disturbance I was going through at that moment.

 

The very next moment, her eyes softened a bit. They signified a humility that made me a lord of all I saw.

 

She made me feel more important than anyone else in this world. This typical attention had been what I had been yearning for all these years.

 

I feel confident of having got to my destination; I don’t want to move on now.

 

The ship must be anchored where it stands now.

 

 

The Prettiest Woman

 The Prettiest Woman
We were in the same room while back. She isn’t a part of the world before me now, but somehow, she makes her presence felt loud and clear in all forms before me every moment I live. She seems to be everywhere I look and everywhere I go. I convince myself she is merely a part of my imagination; it is only that I have been with her for a long time that I see her in all forms of life.

 

The only way out of this problem is that I should stop gloating over her thoughts, I should stop thinking of her. I wish I could control my thoughts in a better way than I do now. I have done all I possibly could to stop thinking of her, but she always assumes a typical shape before me with every determined effort I make to forget her.

 

Getting rid of her thoughts has become the aim of my life. I do everything possible to forget her, but she pops out of nothing every time I breathe in. She stays till I breathe out, and she refuses to budge from my presence even after that. She is like an immovable pillar that I can only look at. I love looking at her, but she vanishes into thin air if I prolong my stare. I can’t stare into thin air for a long time.

 

I sometimes throw myself in the company of children to escape her thoughts, but she manifests herself in the very child I love the most. I badly wish I could see through the delusion, but the child before me is not a delusion, it is certainly the sweetest child I have known. This way, I rediscover perfection every time I look at a child.

 

She had become the ideal and perfect woman I was looking for all these years, better than the child before me. She has bettered the best: I have often wondered if perfection can really be improved: my answer lies before me. Improving perfection means climbing higher than the zenith I have touched; I haven’t known a point higher than this zenith: I don’t know anyone better than her: my query has become an enigma.

 

I realise perfection can never ever be improved in any form, but it can always be replaced by another entity. The only solution to my enigma is to  look for another perfect and ideal entity. I can do my best to look for someone like her, but I don’t think I can ever find anyone who shall ring the same bells within me as she did. Yet,  I desperately look around me for a replacement.

 

On second thoughts, I didn’t want to look at other women. I have found her, the woman of my dreams. I never ever dreamt of women, so I’m not sure why she appears before me everyday as a solution to an enigma already solved. But then, she can be only a delusion. I know so  little women. I looked around her room, there were no pictures or portraits there, but the world outside the room was full of women and everyone is better than her.

 

All said and done, she was the one who was before me a while back, and she held the reins of the conversation that ensued; chance and circumstance play a great part in shaping our outlook to those we don’t know as compared with our innate tendency to accept people we know as they are. She was a stranger, but I had accepted her as an ideal at first sight. It was the first time I had known her, and yet she had assumed the form of an ideal and perfect woman who walked in my dreams.

 

I looked at her in such a way that she was to remain an ideal and perfect woman for me forever and a day. It seems to be a tough proposition. I never thought I would ever see all my ideals embodied in a person in my life. Like a miracle, she  ticks in a remote corner of my heart with every single breath I take in.

 

Her presence is so strong that she stands before me everyday  deliberating every move I make, and yet I know she cannot be here.  A loud whisper reminds me of her presence every morning, but a soft hoot dims her apparition at dusk . I often wonder if it is a spirit that is before me, but then, I remind myself spirits exist only in fiction. My anxiety knows no limits; I often feel I have been dreaming.

 

I badly want to open my eyes, but I don’t want this apparition to fade into oblivion, as it is  sure to do whenever I wake from my slumbers. If this is what is going to happen, I wouldn’t mind sleeping for the rest of my life. A life spent dreaming of her is sure to paste smiles on my face. I’m going to look like a fool smiling while sleeping, but at least I shall be happy, if only in my sleep.

 

It isn’t that I want to escape into a world of  dreams because I find the reality harsh. I do want to taste the realities of life as they are in their pristine form. The reality is not as bad as I thought it is, I know. There is a typical joy in savouring reality though it isn’t anything like living in dreams.

 

Reality tastes best only if I savour a potion of sweet dreams everyday. At the same time, I want to stop dreaming as soon as possible. I wish I could give myself  a big jolt, bigger than what one gets when struck by lightning.

 

This isn’t going to be possible while I’m in her room. I walked out of her house, it was getting dark, the town once again became vast and imminent, and she once again became the prettiest woman in it.

 

 

I Wish I Had Done Something

 I Wish I Had Done Something

I’m caught in a web that entangles itself around me tighter than ever if I try to get away from it. I often feel this is a punishment meted out to me for a sin committed while I was asleep.

 

I can’t recall having committed any sins in my wakeful hours, so, it must have been committed while I was sleeping.

 

I badly wish I were pardoned for whatever I did, but I often feel I’m now past that stage where sins can be forgiven.

 

Right now, I’m certainly not sleeping, and the web gets thicker and thicker as I try to get away from it reminding me of the gravity of my sin.

 

The spider that spun this web has moved on to other corners to spin more webs; I’ve been caught in this clamouring mesh for a long time.

 

It seems to be an eternity when I was free to move around.

 

I can’t recall the time I walked without anything to bother me.

 

I wish I could go back to the time when I was free to dance to the sound of her footsteps.

 

I shouldn’t have gone to sleep. This is the mistake I made.

 

It was while I was asleep that she moved on to greener pastures.

 

She was the reason behind every puff of air I pulled in. I wonder why I let her go in the first place.

 

But then, I virtually pushed her out of my domain because I thought she deserved someone better than me.

 

I wish I hadn’t done it, although I still feel she deserved to be with someone better than me.

 

I still feel she wouldn’t have found all the happiness she deserved had she been in my company.

 

I always wanted her to get all the happiness she deserved, and even more than that.

 

I wish I knew the exact quantum of happiness she deserved; I wouldn’t have been able to give it to her all the same.

 

I always wanted her to be the happiest person on earth. Somehow, I know this wouldn’t have been possible had she been with me.

 

On second thoughts,  I shouldn’t have let an inferiority complex cow me down.

 

Moreover, I should have shown her all the love I have in my heart for her.

 

It might not have been enough to deter me from pushing her off the ship we were on, but I would have had the satisfaction that at least she knows exactly what I feel for her.

 

It would have been a consolation for me that I did do something to stop her.

 

The truth is that I didn’t merely pushed her overboard. I helped her jump off the ship we were on.

 

I half wish I wouldn’t have done this.

 

She might have drowned herself in the turbulent ocean the world is. She might have been devoured by a whale or a fish bigger than a whale.

 

I now wonder if I did the right thing.

 

I did wait till she was safely aboard another ship, till I became oblivious to her. I made sure the ship was a strong and sturdy one.

 

I made sure the ship sailed smoothy before I sailed ahead myself. The ship I’m on leads to a port different from the one the ship she is on is headed for.

 

I hope there is  a lot more fun and frolic on that port than there is on the port I shall find myself on.

 

I want her to be happier than I can ever be. If there were a yardstick to measure happiness with, I wish all its units were to be exhausted in counting the quantum of happiness in her share.

 

If happiness were to be quantified with stars, I’m prepared to wait till I count the last star with my pointing-finger, and still not get tired of counting stars.

 

I shall never be completely happy and content with what I did. I know that I pushed her off, there shall always be a sense of guilt, but at least I shall have the satisfaction that she is happy.

 

 She has served the purpose of a mirage in a desert. She has been moving away from me with every step I took towards her, and this has been what has been pushing me to move on in this desert my life has been.

 

I can now understand how a nomad fatigued with thirst feels while crossing a dry and raid desert: a mirage is there before him, it is very attractive, but he can’t touch it.

 

In an attempt to get to it, the nomad moves towards his destination with more zeal and vigour than ever. The only condition is that his destination and the mirage should be in the same direction.

 

She is an oasis of hope for me. This is where I shall find satisfaction and happiness packed in huge containers used to transport goods aboard ships.

 

Somehow, I know the mirage I have been running after is a mirage of the oasis of hope she is. It keeps moving away from me; it always will.

 

This is how I shall keep moving on in life, and this is how most of us maintain a steady momentum in our lives.

 

Everyone of us has a typical oases of hope that pulls us towards itself, and we move on towards it.

 

The oasis assumes different shapes and forms for all of us, but it does manifest itself in one form or the other for all of us.

 

The nomad is sure to find some amount of relief when he knows he is on the track that leads to a destination. Somewhere in a remote corner of my heart, I  feel  confident she loves me as much as I love her.

 

There are times when I’m sure she loves me. She has been searching for my abode while going around like a nomad.

 

I hope she finds herself on the track leading to my abode soon.

 

 

 

 

 

An Endless Road Before Me

 

An Endless Road Before Me
I find myself looking into infinity as I stand before a long and endless stretch of road. The interminable nature of the track before me fails to deter me. It is a very long and weary road before me, I know, but I move on.

 

The way the path before me looks at me sends shivers down my spine; I wonder if it feels the same way when I look at it. A typical novelty associated with it pulls me to it, but there is also a fear of the unknown that pulls me back. A part of me wants to go back to my comfort-zone:  I don’t want to tread on an unknown path.

 

The truth of the matter is that I don’t have an option but to move on. I have to walk on and I have to keep walking on it for a long time. My pedestrian adventures are going to exhaust me, I know, but I don’t have an option.

 

The road before me is littered with countless thorns and rocks, it is going to be quite difficult for me to move on, but I don’t have a choice. I often wonder in what form the choice would have manifested itself in had there ever been a choice.

 

Life rarely gives any options. I am being pushed by an unknown force. Second thoughts convince me I’m better off when  I don’t have any options.

 

All of a sudden, I become conscious of a thousand odours in the air around me. Some are sweet and pleasant, while many of them are not pleasing to my olfactory senses.

 

Each odour connects to a trillion hopes, joys, wishes and thoughts that had once been through me. They conjured many dreams I saw with my eyes open, and many more I saw with my eyes closed.

 

I don’t dream the same dreams now, many of them became irrelevant like the toys I used to play with. I do have  a lot of aspirations still throbbing wildly within me today.

 

They make the odours appear quite lucrative. The track before me sends quite a few symbols and signs too: at least a few of my dreams might come true if I walk on the track before me.

 

A third thought forces me to make  an about-turn for none  of these thoughts, memories,  or even joys are relevant today. They have outlived their utility. Had they become alive and vibrant  while I was moving towards the road, I would have jumped with joy.

 

I’ve learnt an important lesson: life always gives all those joys we wish for, but the gifts usually arrive when they have outlived their utility. They are quite like the toys I used to play with in my childhood.  I wonder what became of them.

 

I should have preserved them for Zeenat, but I don’t think I would like to repeat everything that happened in my childhood; every drop of joy brought with itself an ocean of misery. Her life will be different from mine.

 

I often wish I could be a child once again, I wish I could go back to the time when these toys were significant, when they gave wee bits of happiness that remained relevant for at least a short while.

 

I wish I could share the feeling Zeenat is going to have when she holds a toy in her hands for the first time. I wish I could relive that short while of happiness and satisfaction.

 

The short time lasted more than the eternity I am out to discover on the road before me today.

 

There was so much novelty to be discovered at that time, there was so much time to make all discoveries. I wonder where all the time went, and how did the novelty of life fade off.

 

Only small bytes of joy were sufficient to propel satisfaction within me at that time.

 

The endless road before me defines another byte of short-lived happiness for me. It is, but it is a broader stretch of road before me today.

 

It is quite different from the constricted and narrow road before me when I was a child, but it too ends in happiness and satisfaction that lasts only a short while, I know.

 

I move on all the same. I have a long way to go before I can touch the evanescent drops of joy supposed to be at the other end.

 

Walking over this track is going to be a lot more comfortable, at least I hope so.

 

Moreover, the drops of joy I am heading for may as well turn out to be bigger than I thought them to be. Happiness  just might be king-sized, bigger than anything I have ever known, it might even be eternal.

 

Nothing is eternal, I remind myself, but the quest of eternal joy is, after all, what brought me to the road I find myself before today.

 

All of us strive for eternal joy and happiness, but no one ever finds it. Everyone has to be content with whatever bits and bytes of it we come across. I shall also have to be a part of this crowd.

 

I often wonder if these small bits and pieces of happiness and joy we discover in our lives is what we should strive for instead of aiming at an entire ton of joy.

 

Our struggles in life would be reduced to a bare minimum in this case. All of us are actually going to be happier, more content and satisfied this way.

 

The problem is we are never content with whatever amount of happiness we have. If someone were to get as much happiness as in a bottomless basket, he or she would still want more of it.

 

If happiness were to be equated with wealth, it isn’t surprising that even the richest man in the world wants more money every single day  he lives.

 

No amount satiates anyone. This is why the road before me appears to  be endless.

 

 

A Special Constellation

 A Special Constellation
A lot remains to be said when we part every day. Both of us talk  a lot, quite a bit of the load on my heart evaporates by virtue of the tete-e-tete we have, but somehow, I always feel I still have a load on my heart when you rise to leave.

 

There is still a lot more to be said than I have already said.

 

I do feel good when we are together and we talk, a typical catharsis is certainly effected within me, a lot of my heart is certainly rendered lighter.

 

Simply being with you lifts a heavy weight from my heart, but a heavier load remains to be lifted from my heart when we part.

 

It is not something you say to me, but it is that you insist on leaving at the end of the day and I still have a lot to share with you that makes me feel heavy. The most successful weight-lifters will find it impractical to deal with this load.

 

These moments we spend together are simply not enough to discuss all there is to talk of. I think of hundreds of topics to discussing with you before we meet, quite a few are like drops of water in a pipe meant for filling buckets with water.

 

They wait for their turn to come out, but can’t make it to the outer world.

 

An eternity isn’t going to be enough to spell all my thoughts in words. There simply isn’t time enough when we are together.

 

Time flies to another land when we get together. I wish I could clip its wings. I want to be with you forever and a day.

 

I wish I could talk to you forever and a day. My heart is full of so many emotions and feelings all of them are bristling to come out.  

 

I manage to let some out while you are with me, but there remain a lot more emotions and feelings to be shared  when we part.

 

I think of so many issues to discuss with you when you are not with me. This is when I feel an eternity is going to be insufficient to say all of it in.

 

Moreover, I fail to find words to articulate all my thoughts in. There is always a lot more to be said. A cacophony of words is going to be miserably insufficient to say it all in.

 

There is  a deep silence confronting me at such a time. It threatens to shatter the fabric of peace and harmony within me with its sharp pitch. It is quite a delicate and fragile entity, which  I want to preserve.

 

The gossamer fabric of peace within me is symbolic of the peace everyone can see when they look at me. It makes me feel good, it makes me feel  better than anyone else.

 

I owe all this to you. I wish I could make you too feel good and happy because of me.

 

I wish there was some other way possible to articulate all that I feel for you. I wish I knew a metaphysical language that has all the words required to say everything I have in my heart for you.

 

There isn’t a single appropriate word in the lexicon to convey all I feel for you. A truck load of words are going to be insufficient. All the same, being with you is quite like taking a bath in an elixir.

 

All that is exchanged between us is smiles and nods when we are together; we hold hands quite tightly, and I firmly believe the fist is a conduit-pipe for our emotions and feelings.

 

The tighter we hold each other’s hands, the faster is the flow of emotions. I want to keep holding your hand tighter than ever everyday.

 

There are more than a billion stars in the galaxy and you stand out of all these as a special constellation.

 

I wish I could tell you how special you are for me. Words are simply not enough: I wish I could spell out all the metaphors and similes that cross my  mind when I think of you.

 

I wish this were possible in something more than words. I feel language is insufficient to express all I have in my heart for you. I feel like  a volcano on the verge of an eruption.

 

Lava is dying to jump out of it. I badly want to share all that I have in my heart with someone, I want to share all of it with you.

 

I sometimes wonder why it is so important  to say it all in words, why is it so important to convey my feelings for you.

 

I shouldn’t let you or anyone know of my feelings for you; these are some special feelings I have for you.

 

 I don’t know if you can say the same for me. I do wonder if you hold similar feelings for me. I can only hope you think of me sometimes.

 

There are times when I feel you love me, but there are also some occasions when I feel you don’t love me a bit. There isn’t a way of knowing anything for sure.

 

It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I feel quite  strongly for you. the only problem is that this feeling can never be repressed in any form.

 

It manifests itself in a pristine form every now and then: I want to be with you. I  simply want to be in your company. Your company seems to be the only solution there is for all my problems.

 

There won’t be anyone or anything between us, I can assure you. We shall form the entire populace of the world  we live in and we are in.

 

My world already begins with you and it ends with you. I often feel stifled in this small world, but the consciousness of your presence in it fills it with joy and happiness the  next moment.