I can not see the same glitter and twinkling in your eyes when you look at me these days. I do not feel the urgent warmth in your arms when you embrace me. Sometimes you forget my presence; at times you ignore my love. With a fear of yet another world, perhaps the only one that I can call as my own, closing down on me I become frantic in my efforts to tighten my clasp, trying to hold the only love and belongingness that I had in life. It is as if someone is trying to pull me apart limb by limb. In a peculiar panic that resembles a dying soul’s last effort and gasp for breath, I rush to your room and try to smell your crayons and touch your pokemons or just sit and watch the tiny bill board, my hands unconsciously trying to play a rhyming number on your little synthesizer. My lips twitch in a sudden smile recalling how you grumble that I had made your room look like a junk yard as I don’t allow you to throw them away. When you go out to play cricket I would quietly sit to watch your favorite cartoon only to feel that unconditional bond, as if I am blindly groping for something tangible in a pitch empty darkness.
I think our world is no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. I have no idea if I have failed you somewhere while trying to build a life for myself. I do not know if by mistake I have built walls instead of building bridges! Or perhaps you have just grown up and I am unable to accept that! I do not know. I realize that whatever my struggles and triumphs may be, all too soon would bleed away just like a watery ink on a piece of paper.
May be some day, very soon I will tell you sories; the good and the bad; stories of my errors and imperfect life. Perhaps then we would be able to strike the same old chord of love and happiness in between us. I am hopeful.
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