Anonymous, as always

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Date: 15th February, 2012
Time: 00:09 A.M.
**,
I have no idea that you have ever had an idea of what I am about to say. Maybe, you had but it must have just been a passing idea which you must have shrugged off in disbelief. But I do believe, that you have had atleast an ounce of the belief, at least once, no? Please, don’t insult my intelligence by a denial.
Let’s start with the facts.

Place: ****’s house at ********, on the roof.

Moment: That song, on which we danced, hugging, closely and you whispered into my ears – “I wish I was [it should have been ‘were’, though] ***”. (there were many such moments to follow)
Aftermath: A warm feeling inside me emerged, to continue holding you tightly and never let you go. I rushed to the loo and sat there for half an hour thinking, I don’t know what. I coughed, felt nauseated and nostalgic the very next moment. I know, nostalgia is something that is a remembrance of something long back……but it did seem a long back only once you had left me.

Disappointment: When ****** told me (in your presence) all about **** and you. The tree, the moonlight, the statements, the feeling…..and then you saw her standing at the corner of the roof gazing into the sky and we pushed you to go to her speak to her. Yes, ‘we’, I said. I was a party to that ‘pushing’ you into speaking to her. I don’t regret that ‘pushing’. Don’t get me wrong. I am all happy for whatever is there between you and her…it’s just that I wanted my share of happiness too, which I know, wouldn’t ever be given.

**. That was the start and it continues till date. I don’t know whether it has diminished. And please, don’t assume that we came close and became what we are, as friends, today, because I wanted you to be mine. Yes, I do admit to the fact that a part of me wanted that. A part of me wanted you and me to walk the flag road together, to walk the *.* together, to go to the **** together, to continue dancing on that number forever. I don’t really know why you said “I wish I was ***” then but whatever be the reason, I wanted you. I still do. It’s futile and I don’t know why I write this to you. I don’t know, will it ever come to your knowledge. In that case, I write for you.

I thought, at the beginning of writing this that I would, you know, let go off this tremendous load of you on me. But I guess, right now, that it wouldn’t. It will remain. Forever.

There was a stage when I felt insecure. Moments, rather. There were, and still continue to be times when I just come to your room to catch a sight of you, and if lucky, to talk to you and if even luckier, to share something with you. I am happy that I have been able to do all this and I have been sad that you haven’t had that experience that I went through. I, of course, am not blaming you. You are completely innocent, **. No blames, no allegations, no implications, no convictions….just complete acquittals.

Many have warned me of the consequence of going into this mode of liking you. Many have told me that you are not worth me. That I deserve someone better. That it’s unfair on me and you, for me to take on this humungous task of liking you. What they don’t know is that they are also with people that they don’t deserve, with people who don’t deserve them…….well, fuck them. Chuck them from your mind. Why is my choice being so assaulted? What is my fault if I started liking you? Shouldn’t the burden, of this guilt, be on you? Hai na, bhaincho?

With you, it has been a completely different experience, machan. With you, it’s a “whole new world”. It sounds so bloody dramatic. But then, I have no better words to put this feeling to. **, I just simply and plainly love you.

I thought that I will give you a detailed description of all those instances when I have tremendously liked you, tremendously wanted you to be with me. But, it just seems too futile. It just seems so so so, I don’t know, again, futile!

Although, my purpose in writing this to you was to express my love…hope, you don’t start hating me by the end of this. Well, this is the end. What say?



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