Passion and Pain

I met the sunkissed him in a late autumn afternoon, breezes playing with his bleached golden locks and the man bun; lost in music.

He was kinda natural calamity, a norwester, a disaster; I saw it coming, and hit me.

I touched him to see if he was for real.

His eyes, his hand holding mine fired up my universe, shattering everything I believed to be true all these years.

He was an eagle in the world of caged parrots.

And in a winter dusk our eyes met, even my pounding heart skipped a beat, my stomach continued the somersault.

Our lips locked in the cemetery as he tasted love from my mouth, his tongue mating mine.

I had fallen in love. I knew for sure. Perhaps he knew too.

Our love lived in stolen moments and kisses. And endless kisses.

Away from the world, on a spring afternoon, alone, together. Nervous us, sinking in each other. 

We knew Love. 

He dropped soft kisses on my lips and my cheeks, holding me close, so close even air couldn't pass through, it felt an adrenaline rush in me, in no time I climbed over him, kissing him as wild as the restless sea and his fingers tracing me down the spine.

The passion sea that was hidden in me, I never knew it before. He made me surprise myself and find himself along. He kissed my skin clothing every bit with his love, mapping allover. I felt the throb, I felt him grow and burst inside of me. 

We didn't stop until we both fell resting on one another, our bare skin jewelled with marks of love, bruises and bleeding nail scratches.

We.Us.

But Time.

Then stroke reality. Different life, difficult life. Different time, difficult time. And the distance. Promises were made and broken. Damaged our serenity, our sensory organs and ruining us yet our souls met in some other world, lived, laughed, loved, cried, Together. But our mortals weighed more, making us fall apart.

He left to save himself.

I tried to love him but he...

I try to love him but he refuses to be loved.

He breaks me. It pains. It pains like tearing my heart apart and I'm living.

He breaks my spirits and I see his eyes glow making music.

My love, he is bipolar.

His heart is a gem, his body is made of gold.

There are days when he would talk, then there are days any trigger would set him off, he wouldn't see, talk or respond.

And I read him, I watch him suffer, he never says he loves me. And I question myself, the love in him is dead already? Why couldn't I kill mine? There I lie dead in him.

He is selfish, he is mean, he disgusts me at times still I chase him down. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Hate that spells love, he knows I love him, and it breaks me again. He isn't selfish, he isn't mean, but... Loving him is not easy, yet knowing this, I love him more, and more and more...

Passion and pain have united in me. Whatever is broken inside me wakes up at the nocturnal hours and cries for him; and I keep cradling, putting all the pieces together, I wrap my arms round my chest that experiences a physical emotion. I try n rock it to sleep, "He isn't coming back. You died in him."

A trip to Uttarakhand

A year back, this day.

So after 3 days in Uttarakhand, we had not had the privilege of seeing the blue of the sky even for once. If I have to guess, we might not have that privilege (if you can call it that) this time around. We were in our room, about to sleep. I am not the least sleepy. So I opened the door of my balcony and got out. What I saw was magical. A gift from the universe, from nature for sure. The sky is as clear as it can be. I can hear the sound of the waterfall from up here. The stars are twinkling down as the big bright moon washes the slopes of the mountains with ridiculous ease. I think I'm going to spend the night here. I know I'm going to think of you. And imagine how you'd look had you been here beside me, holding hands and talking so quietly that even silence is unaware of our voices. I can hear the music of nature and foreplay it does with the silence. I can hear the sound of crickets, constantly. They are singing only one note. And the moon. You should have seen the moon right now my love. I wish I could love you like the moon loves the earth it keeps orbiting. I wish.

Am I an artist? Am I a fool? Am I both? Everything needs defining today. That's no good. What's an artist? What's art? What's a fool? What is defining for that matter? As I note down these thoughts, I am hardly looking for an answer. The answers would only lead to more definitions. Aren't we all tired of it? Even a little? But who am I kidding? The soul has answers. We tend to treat them as definitions. It's a mistake. For the definitions are ever changing. So what's the solution to this? I just found that answer right now. The solution is to not look for a solution. Because that would mean you're treating life as a problem.

I feel thankful for so many things right now. For all the gifts that life has given me. It somehow makes me believe that the universe thinks that I'm important. That's more than I can ever ask for. That's more than anything I can ever get. Because I am less than nothing in front of this universe.

- You

Guilty

I'm sorry for 2019. 

I'm sorry that I happened.

Love wasn't enough. The situation won, it broke US. And I used to think this is difficult but different, it would survive.

It's not I guess. 

I never gave US a second thought after that supernatural afternoon in April, didn't have an idea that it would die so soon.

I guess love is never enough, I was not enough. 

To you, Love.

Since I can't talk to you,

2020

4th January.

You didn't come to drop me at the airport. Why? You asked for a break from me. Why? Actually, this, I know.
You hugged me tight in the staircase, kissed me hard, I got a clot, and said, "Bye." I felt like slapping you, tearing down your clothes, sitting at your feet and ask, "Why?"
Happy 1st, Love.

I returned to Kolkata. Broken. I didn't leave my phone anywhere for a single second, couldn't afford it, held it tight in my fist. Kept looking for the changes in your 'last seen' in WhatsApp and Instagram. Hoping you would drop me a text. I knew you would leave for somewhere, exactly where I didn't know, maybe Kufri, maybe not. Knowing your whereabouts has been a habit of mine for more than a year now. It was difficult.

You had clearly mentioned not to contact you, therefore I couldn't even ask 'where are you?' 'did you have your dinner?' 'where are you going?' 'how are you feeling?' 'did you complete your packing properly?' 'have packed the medicines right?' 'have you taken some food with yourself? You often get hungry.' Difficult. You are a completely self-sufficient grown-up I know and you probably don't need or want these questions to be asked, but I feel responsible towards you. Ki korbo? I cannot even wish you good night. Actually, I can.

Yess. 'Be safe. Good night. Sleep.' You'll understand right for whom the status was!

But anyhow, it's good that you went. You'll get some rest, some solitude, some peace, some truth. Go live, love.
I love you with everything I am.

5th January.

You are supposed to reach wherever you have gone to. I'm worried. Please let me know, will you? Should I ask you breaking the rules that you have set? Ufffff... Waiting...

WhatsApp ... 7.22am.. 10.43am.. and then no show.
Couldn't wait.. 'Where are you?'.. on status. I'm worried. Please let me know.

Instagram story informed you are in Kufri.. 3.05pm, relieved. I wanted to scold you so much, couldn't.

5.54pm you checked my WhatsApp status, 6.06pm you replied that you have reached the hotel along with a few pictures.

Probably I have counted every second of this one and half-day 'without you', actually without you since we are on a break.

I kept stalking you, probably you knew that I will. I wished you 'good night' again. You did see that.

It's difficult.

6th January.

'Chand Roz Aur Meri Jaan'... It's beautiful. I know it's not for me, it's for a much larger cause but please can I take it as for me also. It soothes my soul.

I couldn't stop myself from praising you. I contacted. Pardon. You replied. Thank you for that.  Yes, you are getting to know truths of your life, whatever wrong you did in 2019. Getting along without calibrating the amount of pain was a mistake. I'm sorry I could have stopped, I didn't, I loved you selfishly, I wish I could be selfless at that time.

WhatsApp Instagram were my companions for the whole day. Felt like I had gone back a year, 2019 January when I used to search you on social media.

At my home. Cooked. Bathed. Read. Meditated. Lying on the bed, waiting for sleep. I have not been sleeping from the day I returned from Delhi. God knows what has happened to me.

Why did you call? Because you knew that I was at my home? Or just because you wanted to talk to me?

You were also not sleepy, like me. We talked for about 2hours. You made sense, so did I. Our conversation didn't complete, when I could sense you drowsy, you felt sleepy. Good night, Love, though I have already wished you on my status. I love you more than you know.

7th January.

Anxious. I have caused you much pain. Me, my situation and it's toxicity. I never wanted to cause you a little bit of harm but the irony of my fate, my life. Things need to be corrected. I need to keep you away from this. What else can I correct? We broke up already, but can't unlove you, deal with it. I wish we could fight together, shout and then cry, hug and kiss and love... And everything would be alright.

You called in the evening. We had a conversation, continuation of what left incomplete the last night.

My calibration of time was wrong, I didn't lie or hide or delay any truth. Thankfully you at least believe my intentions.

I proposed you to take a break from me like before, from the relationship as well this time. You agreed. So now, actually, we are not together anymore. No 'us'. My heart aches but ... It's okay.

8th January.

Morning video call to show me the snow, to make me feel jealous or better? You do care for me, I know.

I feel like knowing your whereabouts, but I can't rightfully. I worry for you, but can't rightfully. I feel like having long long conversations with you, but can't, I already find you indifferent over the phone, feels like kinda friend-zoned me.

Now I am thinking twice before sending you a text and thrice after sending it. And no calls for no reason. Hilarious.

So here, finally, I put my feet out of my fantasy world, because we needed to break up for whatever reason it might be. 'No matter what' doesn't exist. Accepted.

I'll write no more.

With love,
Yours, no matter what,
Bhodu.