A turning point has come in my life, which requires moving; from my comfort; to where there is distress. And I am giving rambling speech to myself, leaving no stone unturned, preparing for the worst, and the best.
I feel sometimes that my creativity is diminishing, I see new people, with their talent, their immerse engrossing talent, and I am mesmerised, but a little scared; too. I think it’s my lowered self confidence, or my tiny self esteem knocking me back in the stomach, twisting my intestine, begging for my courage to show up. I really don’t know what I am afraid off. The people? My friends? My family? Or my own self? I feel sometimes that this insecurity is just in my head, that this Wallflower will bloom not just in early springs, but anytime, vanishing my existence.
When I will be in love; I’ll blush when your name would be called by my friends, I’ll think about you more than often. Small things would remind me of you. Our songs would sing along in my ears, as I would take a seat in subway, I’ll day dream about us. I’ll bring you food from home, and call you when you feel nervous before your interview and talk you out. I’ll be your friend in need, your support system, your backbone, your listener, your advisor, whenever you need me through. When I’ll be in love with you, I’ll do what would be best for us.
Do you remember the first time we spent the night, your breath touching mine, and I could hear you heart beat so loud that I could hardly feel mine. I remember that time, you touched, I know I was afraid, but more than me, you were worried. You never wanted to hurt, do you?
But now that’ it’s over, I feel the sufferings I gave you. I know that I was at fault and I shouldn’t have done what I did, and, you were so nice that you never really accused me. I am so sorry, I really am.
But it’s been sometime, and now I realise; you loved me enough to let me go.
Recently I went to a wedding, an Indian wedding. The groom came on a white mare with a Baraat. He was dressed in a dazzling Achkan; and wore a Pagdi, having a brooch in the middle. The bride was dressed in red, with shimmers and stars attached to the length. Their families wore glitters; the celebrations were huge. Weddings are special, they bond families together. They shower love, let us trust and spread utmost happiness.
So, the bride and the groom entered the open lawn during the Kanya Aagaman; tears rolled down the cheeks of bride’s mother; as she saw the bride and the groom coming with held hands