Photography and other experiences.


I feel helplessly blank now that you’re gone. Not a tear has fuzzed my sight.

I know you’re there, waiting for me to come home and how you will not let me climb the stairs till you have your kisses. You are a part of my soul, so how can I cry because I cannot smell your ears, bite your cheeks or hug you till we both fall asleep? How can I cry for my favorite pillow which is gone?

The next time I go for a walk to the park, I’ll hear your footsteps under the Amaltaas and under the bougainvillea. I’ll search for those eyes waiting for me to catch up and I’ll thank the Universe that we had such a time together.

You were there, we were together, when I painted. Sometimes you rolled over the paints, carrying their color and everyone else made fun of you. Then we loved the ripples of your soft skin when we tried to take it off .

The songs which I sang for you, now no one else can hear. They will fill my heart whenever you visit me. I know when the Jacaranda blooms we will hear the song of its trumpet together.

Why should I mourn? You and I are meant to be together in some ways or the other.

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