In Heaven We Find Ourselves

In Heaven We Find Ourselves
My palpitating heart speaks louder than any number of words articulated through a loudspeaker every time she is near me. There is something special about her; I have known this all along. I wish I knew what it is, but I gave up trying to figure it out a long time back. I simply enjoy the magic that works itself on me while she is with me. I lose all my senses, there is only her benign presence beside me. Somehow, she pushes a lot more oxygen into my lungs every time I inhale. It is to stay in my lungs for a long time, and is destined to create a havoc while it flows through my body with the blood cells. There is to be a brutal mayhem as my blood cells compete for more and more of her presence, but it is to be a lot less vicious than the drama staged in my heart while she sits with me.

I wish I could make her realise how special she is for me; she makes me feel different and wanted. I feel on top of Everest, or even at a higher point, if one is possible. I feel atop a rocket destined to touch the moon and even one of the stars it borrows its values from while she is with me. She inches closer to me, probably to show me she too loves me, and I feel really honoured by the gesture. I have always wanted to be on the moon; my dream-destination inches a bit closer to me while she inches closer to me. She is the ultimate destination I have always wanted to be at.

For a while, I pause to wonder if I have reached where I always wanted to be.  I have always wanted to be in a world where there isn’t even a slight hint of grief. The present situation is only a temporary break in the onslaught of adversities, I know. The incessant shower of grief makes me wish to be in a place where happiness reigns over everyone and there isn’t a hint of sorrow. I wonder if her company is capable of pushing all of my grief in a corner like an equestrian pushes infantry it encounters in a battle-field. I know this is a hypothetical case, but this is how I feel when I am with her. I wonder if I get a wrong feeling. She doesn’t seem to harbour a similar feeling for me while we are together. Apparently, there is something wrong with my receptors.

I don’t think I want to get my receptors rectified. I find myself in an idealised world while she is with me. I don’t think I would ever like to leave a world that has me and she in it. This is better than being in paradise, although I don’t know what being in paradise is like. There are tons of happiness and excitement to be discovered here, I don’t want any more of them. But at the same time, I also feel I shouldn’t be here at all.

 There is nothing wrong in being here, but I’m not habituated to so much of happiness and excitement. There have always been a lot of aeons of happiness to be discovered, but this time, there seems to be a shower of it. It makes me jump up with joy. Too much of these can prove to be detrimental to my being, I know; moreover, I feel scared and terrified at the thought of whatever that shall be before me when this idealised world  I find myself in vanishes into the ether.

It is to wither away one day, I know. I shall be left with a few pieces of a bitter reality; it is not going to taste very good, but I shall have to put up with it for a longer time than I ever thought. It is going to spoil the flavour of everything I eat and drink. My rumblings in an idealised world shall be insignificant at that time, I know.

Her presence  beside me today is stronger than a tryst I once made with myself. I pledged to be happy and happier than anyone else in this world. She reminds me of the pledge again and again every time she is with me. I begin to wish for more and more happiness and satisfaction. A typical satisfaction runs through me as I realise I am working for it while she is with me today. In a small way, I know I am also propelling similar values of happiness through her with every fraction of time I spend with her.

There has to be a way to say how much she means to me. Words are simply not sufficient to say all of it in. A catharsis runs through both of us when I hold her hand today. My fingers dig into her palms for a tighter grip over a dream I know won’t leave me as long as I keep up my grip. She will be with me for a longer time  today. For me, she is like a lifeboat a sailor discovers while he is sinking into the depths of an ocean. My fingers dig harder into her fingers for a tighter grip.

I feel sure it makes her feel special and wanted too, although I don’t know who gains the most. She is a strong contender in the race, I tighten my grip and my message is reinforced. She made some coy moves as if to avoid me, but I know more than the obvious. The very next moment, I held her tightly in my arms till every nerve of our bodies was in contact with each other.

She writhed with pleasure, twisted and turned, but eventually, she gave up her pretensions and ended up kissing me again and again. Both of us panted for breath even as our hearts worked harder in those moments to push us into heaven.