It’s so curious: One can resist tears and behave very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind the window or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed or a letter slips from a drawer…and everything collapses.
Would you tell me the same thing everyone tells me, darling? Those insubstantial words of sympathy? All those ‘It is okay-s’, ‘This too shall pass’ and ‘I am here for you-s’?
Well, it will pass. It will pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass. Or, that is what I keep convincing myself. Because, I don’t know how to bring myself to terms with the fact that you have left. Like, really, really left.
I guess this is what people call about being in a void.
No emotions. It’s all dark. It’s all hollow. Only the silence of my despair echoes through this emptiness. I guess this is the place when you are wallowing and no tears come out, when you are yelling and no voice comes out, when you want to confide into someone about that pain at the back of your throat and no voice comes out. When every breath is labored, when every word is fabricated, when all you crave is solitude and all you can manage to say is ‘I’m okay’.
I don’t think time can ever heal this wound. Because this, this feeling is for forever; it won’t go, it won’t heal; it will become a part of me and stay with me always, just like my love for you, wherever you are. Because the memories of our friendship and love will play like a mix tape every time I go out to get a cup of masala chai, or the section of Alistair MacLean in the Oxford bookstore, or to Flurrys for baked cheesecakes.
But this grief will hold me down, like an anchor because I will remember you like you were and like you came to my life; a raging tornado in the stagnant dunes, a gush of wind in the humid sorrow and a firefly in the dark nights.
I had, do and will always love you.
Till infinity and beyond.