A Liar's Guide to the Dreams..

In the dead of the night, the dreams come in one by one. They cling to you with soft acceptance, and they know it all..

These are the dreams which leave a note of remembrance. They cling to our tongues like a bittersweet delight.

They feel familiar, though their flavour melts in the mouth... and taste distinctly unusual.

June 22, 2006

To My First Best Friend...


*I am writing this down because you gave me virtually no warning of your departure to Hyderabad.*

This is not a letter where I would be all nostalgic and dippy and sobby sobby, and recall all the times we got each other into deep shit. This is not a letter where I would give you old counsel like the Ladki ki ma and say ta ta to you and go off in a merry manner.

This letter is to tell you that we won't perhaps be meeting again as we did, be happy in that innocent manner that we were, or even have the same surname (what with you getting married and all).... but baby, you were the first ever friend I had, and thats why you hold a very verrry verrrrrry special place in my bloated soul, and you will have that for as long as I live and breathe (until and unless I have alzheimer's or go into a coma.... disasters not to be taken into cosequence). We have had 20 long years of friendship.... and I wish for many more... even if we do not see each other as often as school, or even college.

When I kept the phone down the other day, and realized that this is perhaps the last time before you begin a new life in another city, I felt so damn sad, not exactly because my friend was going away, but because it was you. And I was worried. 'What if's crowded my mind. I have looked out for you for so long now, I feel bereft because you are gone.

I sound like a damn funeral march. But I am actually happy for you. Very happy. Finally you are gone to a place where they wont hurt you anymore. I am so damn relieved. I love you, you know. Right down to your not-so-fat arse.....

Come on baby, you Know I will never stop making fun of you, I mean, I will commit suicide the very day I fail to respond to a jibe from you.

With muh blessings, fly away. By the time you read this, it will probably be an old post in my blog. But you know what they say, about gold, old and other rhyming words...my poetess.

Keep being the way you are,


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That was really so touchy... its true for me too... though i donot have such beautiful words to express them... wish you luck in life... Roshun