//abhi na jao Chhodkar ke dil abhi bhara nahi//
"I know I should’ve written this a long ago, probably on the day I came to know of it.
It was one beautiful evening, the sky as pretty as it could be, orange and yellow stokes amidst white cotton balls.
Won’t lie, never in my wildest dreams did I think 17th November 2020 would be the last time I’d see you.
You being your usual mischievous self, ran away and spent the afternoon sun bathing in our neighbour’s verandah.
What a pretty little sunflower, my sunflower.
//Yeh Shaam dhal toh le zara, yeh dil Sambhal toh le zara.//
I remember, you know.
I remember everything, I remember the day you and your mother paid a random visit to our lonely balcony on a gusty evening.
I remember giving you bubble baths while you were busy leaving marks of love. Marks I wish to cherish forever, marks I yearn to have again. such scratches, much showcase of love.
I remember spending nights of unwavering love with you, afternoons where you’d sleep in my arms, evenings where you’d be scared of me letting go.
//sitaare jhilmila uthe, Chirag jagmaga uthe//
The sun sets, the sky filled with stars. The moon so full and I wait for you.
I sit on your favourite chair and think about grief. An emotion so new to me.
You know, Grief is like that irritating uncle who pays a random visit and stays for as long as he wishes to.
Grief stays, grief isn’t invited but when grief pays a visit, when grief knocks at your door, open the door and let it in.
Let grief settle down, let it make space for itself. After all, what is grief if not love sojourning.
Grief, unknowingly comes with a purpose. A purpose it chooses to reveal only when it wishes.
//jawaan dil ki chaah me kai makam aaenge, jo hum aazmayenge//
You’re gone, sunflower. You’re amidst rainbows and unicorns and everything lilac.
You chose to paint me pastel. Your absence filled me with colours of grief, emptiness and longing.
I know I should’ve written this a long, probably on the day I came to know of it.
It is one beautiful evening. It’s been 151 red, cloudless sunsets, 151 hazy sunrises and 151 days of abyss.
The sky is as pretty as it could be. Papa is sitting by the door, looking for you, waiting fir you to come home with your bowl in his hands. Mumma is stitching a new t-shirt for you. And me?
Here, I am. wondering if you could’ve stayed a little longer, if you could’ve waited until the dawn.
Until then, sit beside me and be my solace.
Abhi na jam Chhokar, ke dil abhi bhara nahi.