Tonight, When I Gazed At A Star In The Eyes, It Gazed Back At Me.

Tonight, when I gazed at a star in the eyes, it gazed back at me.

I asked him genuinely intrigued, "You know the world is gruesome. How you feel there up above, small and so loved?"

It chuckled humorlessly, "You know the sky is gruesome. How you feel there down below, small and so loved?"

Periodt.

How easy it is for a person sitting beside you, smiling at your antics, to get reduced into a picture, that you can only stare at. The unfathomable distance when one among the two of us is no more a living thing.

The worst part of it all is you have to come in terms with this tragedy. You cannot resent them for leaving because it was not in their hands. And you cannot blame god, because that is what he does with everybody.

There are some days you spend thinking of them. There are some days you spend talking of them. Some days even dreaming of them. But eventually they have to cease existing in your memory too. For your own good. Such irony.

People often love you in a way you do not understand. That doesn't mean they don't love you. Like your definition of love is different from their definition of love. So may be your ways of loving are peculiar, not understandable, non-aligned, that still doesn't delete your membership in love.

It is about confronting the world that doesn't seem to recognise you. At some point, everyone would just be confused, or agitated or perturbed at what you do, how you react, how you feel. There is this tendency of non acceptance. That no matter how right you feel inside, the world shall force you into the abyss of guilt. So much that you shall begin seeing flaws in you. It is about being the not-so-likeable yet being you!

"Will you protect me from the fire?"

"Ofcourse!"

"Will you help me climb that mountain??"

"Yup! Absolutely!"

"Do you love me??"

"Love you? Not a chance!"

*

Not all who love you would express it out aloud in poetic phrases and stylish sonnets. Some types of loves are beyond the circumference of words. In a way, words are too small, the entities to justify the humongous expanse of feelings. Or that if I say it, I'd make it small. Non admittance of love doesn't mean denial of it.

"Where have you been?", I asked to the person standing behind the mirror but the question was not to my physical self.