Dear long distance best friend,

Dear long distance best friend,

You know who you are. This is to you, to us, and to the amazing friendship we share that has nothing but strengthened over the years. Cheers.

I was the person who didn't believe in friendships. Solitude was all I seeked because people seemed annoying. I was reluctant making friends here, and so the thought of befriending someone so far away from me was distant. Then you happened.

I had thought internet friendships would be easy, it wouldn't involve meeting up and hanging out and being at each others' constant beck and call. It would not involve all the regular stuff, and that's why it'd be less complicated and more interesting. Being the introvert I am, it seemed the ideal friendship to me.

Years passed by and things didn't seem to deteriorate. They enhanced my life instead. Your friendship has brought out the patient side in me, because sometimes all I want to do is run to you and hug you tight and never let you go because you are my person. Yes, you're my person. You're the one who knows me inside out, all that I show and don't show to the world, all that I am and am not, all that I want and don't want to be, you know everything and you don't judge me.

You give me life lessons and advices I can't help but follow. Neither of us are perfect people, but you've complemented me in such a way that you overshadow my imperfections and make me feel complete again. I don't know what I have possibly done to deserve your friendship. You're the best.

You're a part of me; I'm not whole without you. You're the person I'd turn to if I face a life crisis. You're the one who I'll trust enough to show my hidden self, the one nobody knows exists. I sometimes wonder, how the hell did we even get so close?

I just wanted to tell you that you matter. You're amazing and I'm never letting you go for anybody in this world. Like Phoebe had once said, "boyfriends and girlfriends are going to come and go, but this is for life."

You're my best friend, and I know it's a really cheesily weird thing to say, but you are. And I love you. You're my favorite human, now and always. And you're not allowed to love anyone else more than me, alright?

There is only one reason to be in each others' lives when we stay so far away, and that is we want to be in each others' lives. I'm not shying out from taking any efforts because I want us to be friends forever. All the things we've shared till today, all the happy and sad moments, all the jokes and of course, memes, it just means too much to me.

You're my 2 am friend, when I'm breaking down so bad that only someone as close as you to me can fix me. You're also my 2 pm friend when I'm hanging out with people here, or I'm busy with my work. You're mine, okay?

I'm the kind of person who doesn't want to meet up with people but meeting you is something that I'm looking forward to. You better feel special, and come to meet me soon.

No matter what happens, no matter where we are, no matter what the circumstances, I'm always going to be there for and with you. Even though I cannot give you a shoulder then and there, or I cannot hug you to make you feel better when you're low, you know that I'm just a call away. I'll drop everything and I'll be there for you, I promise. You've been with me in my hard times and good times, and I promise to be with you too.

I am out of words, but everything comes down to the simple fact that I love you. You're the best person I could ever ask for, and I'm never letting you go.

Your best friend in all times,
Me.

The Girl In The Mirror

Dear girl in the mirror,

I see you standing right in front of me. You're smiling right now. You've had a pretty amazing day and you've had fun and enjoyed and everything, but now is the time you're taking off that mask slowly. As the first layer comes off, I see you almost equally smiling, just a shred less than before but that might even go unnoticed if I weren't you. The second layer's erasure shows a little more of You - Me. As the layers keep coming off, the vibrant smile seems to fade and the skin starts to look pale, almost dry, still somehow dampened by your own tears. When the final layer comes off, you break down. Tears stream down your face and you cover your mouth with your hand because you're afraid of making any noise so as to not make others worried but what you don't understand is that I see you. You sigh a deep sigh and the first words that leave your mouth sound like "I love him," sharply and alternatively, very smartly emphasizing on 'love' as well as 'him.'
Heartbreak is so overrated, I would think, it wouldn't be such a big deal that people bleed poetries and weave words to resonate with its intensity and meaning. Love, I thought, was something only idiots felt. How can someone be so important to you that you tend to be so taken over by them that you forget yourself? How does one value someone so much that they tend to crash down and stop functioning without them? How is that even possible to consider someone so worthy that you defy your own self and your entire set of beliefs for that one single person? Wait till you fall head over heels with somebody, and now I understand the depth of the pain. Well I still think the same, heartbreaks are overrated, but there's a reason why. I see you crying and crashing down in front of me and I understand the reason.
"What if I never get over him? What if I'm never able to love anyone else ever again? Will I even be okay some day, or will I just get used to the pain?" You ask me, looking straight into my eyes, and I calmly just stay mum, because I have no answer to give you. I know this isn't how it will be and I know you'll love again and live again, but I don't say it because even though you ask me and want me to answer you, I know you won't believe a word of what I say. I see you so submerged in your pain and tears that aren't seeming to stop, that you won't trust me for any optimistic opportunity.
How will I even trust again? You think.
How will I ever love again? You will.
How will I ever be okay? Well, I can't say that.
Hey, girl in the mirror, I hear you say you feel a hole in your gut, and you feel it expanding too, and that it feels like one day, it'll get even bigger than you. I know it's not possible but you say that and I hear you. It never stops hurting, does it? You always remember the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke, the way he grinned with his tongue between his teeth, the way your heart always skipped a beat when he held you, everything, all that's happened between you, it all makes you feel a little more miserable than the last time. You love him, and your heart may never accept the fact that you'll never get to be with him, but I see you everyday in this mirror, and I know you're getting better and better, and I know one day, you'll heal. I like to believe that.

Love, 

The girl on the other side.

The Obscured

Hi there,

How are you? Is life treating you well enough to even want to live, or is it giving you a hard time like always? I've seen all the good and bad times with you, you know.

I see you everyday. I know the things you did and still do, the things you feel. I observe the person you were, are and the one you're turning into. I can very well see what's happening.

Recently, you know what I realised? I'm an outcast to you. Despite the wee fact that I am what and because you are, despite that we share a body, a soul, a mind; despite me being you, I feel like a foreigner to you, sometimes feeling like I don't know you at all. And I am taking a wild guess here, but you don't really like me, maybe. I'm the dark part of you, the void in your heart, the hole in your gut. I'm the bystander who just silently witnesses the fallouts that happen in your life. Probably you are not at fault, but darling, neither am I.

I'm just as helpless as you become because of me. I sometimes really wish to make it better for you by simply disappearing somewhere - making you feel whole again. You so desperately want to get rid of me, I see that. But what you fail to understand is I'm a part of you. If you lose me, you'll lose a little of yourself, how will you be whole again then? We are one, you see.

I see you take countless efforts to just fill me somehow. You try to do the things you used to like doing, go to places you used to like going to, meet up with people you used to enjoy being with, all before I happened. But I still rest as unfilled and empty as always. I understand, I'm what makes you real, I'm what makes you vulnerable. I'm the dark part, I know, but I can be just as comforting as the light, given a chance.

All your - our - life, you've hated me because I actually make you feel things. Look where that has gotten us, forked us, made us separate. But tell me something, if I actually make you feel, how the hell am I the bad guy here? Instead of hating me, try accepting me for once. Instead of alienating me, try embracing me. I too need to be assured that things will get better, you know. I would like if sometime, someone comes to me and actually accepts and comforts me, and does not try to get rid of me or even try to fill me for a change. I'm a vacuum, nothing can fill me, you should have understood that by now. Do I not deserve even a wee bit of good, of light, after everything I - we - have been through?

Hi, I'm the murk in you. I'm what's been eating you alive inside, rendering you just a structure of flesh - all hollow inside. I'm what cripples you and aches inside you, and makes you sob on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. I'm all that and more. But all I ask is, let those grudges go. Let it go, and accept me, just once. We owe it to us, do we not?

The Void.

Recoil

I stand at the window, staring at the street and the passerbys. The sky has turned blueish orange - the sun is about to set, dawning the night. Evening breezes blow, calming my insides that keep churning throughout the day. Something just like this by Coldplay and Chainsmokers plays in the background, my sister must be playing it on her laptop, I guess. There's a restaurant right in front of the building I live in, just across the street. It's a well, six storied glass building, that stands tall. I bite my upper lip, and touch my face. It's been weeks that I've shaved. Through the glass of the restaurant, I see a couple sitting, waiting for their food to arrive. Maybe they haven't yet even ordered​, must be thinking what they should fill their stomachs with. I can tell by their actions, they're a newly wed couple, embarking on a whole new journey in life. The joy of being with each other is visible on their faces. The lady can't stop smiling. For my convenience, I name them Mary and Joe.

Mary is a beautiful woman, long hair, wears maybe a dress that is orange, or red - I can't really tell from a distance. Her wedding ring is a giant diamond that shines and reflects through the glass walls. She has a smile affixed to her face that doesn't seem would vanish anytime soon. Joe must be a lucky man.

On the other hand, the man sitting opposite her is Joe, suited up, clean shaven, perfectly suiting her. He is saying something that makes Mary blush. Somehow, seeing them makes me smile, too. Their food arrives, and I can't really guess what it is that they're eating but she takes up a piece of it and feeds Joe. He smiles and eats it. Then he does the same. Mary and Joe look very happy. I don't realize when smiling for them takes me back into the memory lines of the past, the ones that I've left way down the road, the ones that I've locked up way too deep in my heart. The song changes to Shania Twain's You're Still The One, and the opening lines strike me. "When I first saw you, I saw love. And the first time you touched me, I felt love. And after all this time, you're still the one I love." I feel a tear trickle down upto my nose, and suddenly all I'm filled with is one name. A name that is the sunshine in my darkest days, a name that still aches to be said, a name I'll never get over. Her name.

Amy and I had been on and off time and again. We were set up on a blind date by our mutual friends and we had really hit it off. Things weren't bad with us, but they weren't good either. Our separation wasn't a bummer to anyone, everyone had seen it coming, except us. We were in love, and suddenly we weren't. It didn't matter, we just didn't work. No matter how hard we tried, what we did, we knew it wasn't meant to be.

Right now, I'm trying hard to not let the memories get ahold of me. I'm trying not to reminisce, because if I do, I will want to have her back. And everyone knows how that ends very well. I want her, but I don't want her. I can't want her, well, that's the thing. Now my thoughts start to race and conflict within. I hate this part. A part of me thinks we should have a life apart and ahead of each other, we're toxic. It's for the best that we stay detached. But again, the heart feels what the heart feels. It wants what you can't have, always. It's insane.

"Oh Chrissie, change the damn song!" I yell at my sister. Mary and Joe look so happy still, and now I'm wanting to be like that with someone.

I can't help all these feelings that are rushing in. Amy must not even be thinking about me. I have to convince myself not to go back to her.

Do I love Amy? Yes.

Am I in love with Amy? I'm not so sure. Maybe.

She's the good part about me. When I'm with her, I'm a better person. Without her, eh, not so much. But she awakens the beast in me. She has a hold over me I can't deny. And that isn't very saintly, either. I can't call her. I won't call her.

I look at Mary and Joe one last time - the vibrant smile on the woman's face and the satisfaction on the face of the man - I want that. I want a relationship. A relationship. With Amy? Damn, why her?
I go and sit on my bed. My mind and my heart are stubbornly arguing, and neither of them is giving up.

Oh, for the love of God! Forget about her already.

The battle in my head doesn't seem to have an end. Why does she have this impact on me? I want to move forward with my life, I have to. But somehow, I keep going back to her, well not me, but my heart does. I guess that's the thing, when you have loved someone, they never really go away.

I pick up my phone and dial.

"Hello, Amy?"

Shadows

These shadows, they follow me everywhere. Day and night. Night and day. All the time. It's like a part of me that I don't want around, but can't separate from myself. It's like a contamination, I feel it spread throughout my insides through my blood, whilst I see the reflections of those in the form of the shadows around me. They're scary. It's like the weight that is tied around my legs when I am drowning, I cannot come to the surface. I seem perfectly fine to everyone but I'm drowning, drowning in myself, as I hear the shadows laugh at me. I recognise those shadows, you know, I'm it, but I cannot get rid of it anyway. It's like a belt that's been fastened around my neck, controlling me, making it difficult for me to breathe, and having people tell me it's all in my head? When I walk, I feel its weight on my shoulders, more so a burden, a luggage that I have to carry around no matter what. I don't speak, not because I can't, but the constant calculations of the holocaust that's going on in me makes it difficult for me to think. I'm not pretentious or holding myself back, I'm just anxious. You should see my nails, I bite 'em a lot, just because I can't find anything else to focus all my energy on. I'm constantly shivering and nauseous and on the verge of falling apart, most of the times. You know, I'm like that suitcase that's so overpacked that just one lid cannot hold everything together. People seem to fail to understand that. And it consumes me, and I can't do anything except let it. I have to give in because the more I try to resist, the more I feel it. Constant ticks ring like silence in my head, making no noise but killing me with its loudness. It's a recoil, really, it just gets better and then suddenly out of nowhere, I'm back at square one. And these shadows, they control it. They make it happen. They coerce me to feel all these things. They trap me in a cage and they carry me around in the palm of their hands, vulnerable and feeble.

For a long, long time, I used to think I was the only one who felt this anxious. But with time, a great realisation has dawned upon me, that's everyone feels this. Everyone has a baggage, a past, a shadow. And the many people I see around me everyday, they're too trapped in their minds, maybe, and they're too controlled by their demons. Everyone has their shadows and maybe, just maybe, it's okay to hope that we'll be fine one day.

Peace.

I'm walking by the footpath. My hair falls over my face, so I tie it up in a bun. I'm depressed. My life makes no sense. I mean, I sure can pretend happy all day long, but nights have this power of bringing out the grief in me. I feel suffocated. I feel like I have nobody, like I need to get out of here. I need to get out of this life -- I feel like dying.

It's late, I've lost the track of time. There's nobody on the road, and it's started to rain. As the drops of rain fall over me, I feel like all that's accumulated in me is proliferating. It's like the rain is trying to embrace me in its arms, and I break down. I fall, and as I'm about to wipe my tears and get up, something hits me. Maybe it's a car, or a truck. Something big. My head's spinning and all I can see is blood - I'm soaked in it. My entire body aches, and I'm passing out because of the pain. My vision blurres more and more with every ticking second, and suddenly, all the pain ends.

I don't know how much time has passed. I wake up in a white room - naked. All the pain, all the despair, it seems like everything's just ended. I sit up and look at myself. There are no wounds, no blood. Not even a scratch. I look around, there's nothing in the room. No furniture, no bed, no television, it's just empty. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, it's all painted in white. And even though I should be freaking out, I'm surprisingly calm. I know where I am. I know this place.

I stand up and take a deep breath. I don't even feel sad anymore. It's like I'm all healed, mentally and physically. I touch the walls, I don't know why. Everything - it just feels right. There's no door to this room. I mean, there is, but someone coming here for the first time will never find it. It looks like there's just walls. There's no guessing. But I know where it is, I just know. This is my place. I walk towards the wall that's in front of me, and push the wall-like door. There's no handle to the door, not even a latch or something. It's just plain. Everything is plain here. I'm not even aware of my nakedness. That's just how I'm supposed to be at this place. That's weird, but somehow right.

As the door opens, a bright yellow light shines from the other end, piercing my eyes so hard as if they'd bleed. I wonder if this is what I'm thinking it is. I'm taking deep breaths as the light disappears. I look outside, and I'm now sure of where I am. This is my heaven.

I smile. As I take a few steps ahead, I can feel the sunlight on my bare skin, making me feel ecstatic. As far as I can see, there's just grass. It tickles my feet as I step on it. There are a few trees, but mostly there are flowers - all pink, yellow, red, orange. I am surrounded by just the nature. Far away, I see a cottage. The sky above the cottage is pink in colour, only the part above it. The rest of the sky is blue, just normal. Well, this isn't normal, though. I know that. But when have I ever adored normalcy? I have always wanted a fairytale, a bliss. I start walking towards the cottage, when my sight falls over a pond of water. I change my path towards the pond and as I reach there, I take a little water in my hand. Turns out the water's changed its colour from blue to pink, and it is sparkling, like someone has mixed glitter with it. I like it. I throw a handful of water in the sky, and all the little drops turn into birds that start chirping. I know that was going to happen, I've imagined it so many times. All of this, this place I'm in, it's all like I've imagined since my childhood. It's a part of my life I'd locked up inside, but I'm here now, and I realize this is where I have always wanted to be - a place that makes no sense, a place that's magic.

I again start walking towards the cottage, but a few steps later, I realize I cannot see the cottage anymore. I have landed in a forest, not a very dense one, but it's still a forest. The leaves of the trees are purple in colour, and as I take a leaf in my hand, it becomes an apple. I take a bite out of it, and keep walking. A little ahead, I meet a bear, and it's not a scary bear. I know him.

"You're finally here!" He exclaims.

"I am." I say, smiling and raising my eyebrows.

"I had thought you'd never be able to escape your reality. You did it." He says proudly.

"This... This is my reality." I say, "Everything else was fiction."

We smile and keep walking wherever the path leads us.

"All my life, I have been a shy person. I read and read, never liked people. I've lost innumerable people I've loved, and yet didn't find a single soul who loved me for me. I've always found peace in stories. This is where I used to want to come, when I wanted to escape the world." I admit.

"I know." He smiles.

He leads me to a river. I see that there's a boat on the bank.

"You coming?" I ask as I look behind me, but he's gone. A part of me wishes he'd have accompanied me, but I let go. This is a new ability I discover about myself. I can let go. I wonder why I couldn't let go of the things that hurt me in my life. I get into the boat and set out in the river, when a frog jumps in.

"Hey there!" He greets me.

"Hi. Can you tell me where this river leads to?" I ask him, my curiosity rising every moment.

"Haven't you figured out yet?" He counter questions me.

"What?" I look at him confused.

"This leads to wherever you want it to. This is your land, your imagination. You can do anything you want in here. You have the power. You have the magic. All you have to do is think where you want to be and snap your fingers." He tells me. I'm still confused.

"How do you know?" I ask him nervously.

"Because I'm you, silly. This place, its contents, it's all you." He says.

"But I met with an accident and woke up here. It makes no sense. Am I dreaming?"

"Oh my, you're really unaware. I don't know how to tell you-- okay, euphemistically speaking, you've passed away. You couldn't survive the accident. A part of you knows it." He says, and disappears.

He's right. I know I'm dead, this is definitely not a dream. It's just too perfect. I try the finger snapping thing he told me.

'The door,' I close my eyes and think, and snap my fingers. I'm magically transported back to the door of the white room, and I'm standing on its threshold.

All my life, I've been too afraid to live. I've suffered and suffered, and given too much, even to the wrong people, the ones who didn't deserve it. I never had the guts to be at liberty, I've always been scared of the future, never at peace. But maybe that's over now. Maybe finally, in death, I've found a place where I belong.

I look inside the room, all plain and white and empty, and I look out of the room, all cheerful and colourful and bright, and I now understand that's just who I am. Sometimes I'm the white room, awfully silent and empty and hollow, and sometimes I'm this vibrant person who's full of life and enthusiasm and love. I know this place, it represents me. Maybe this is my peace. When I was alive, I couldn't fly, had no wings - I was in my cocoon. But now, I'm at liberty. I've just left my cocoon and I'm ready to fly, even without wings. This is my heaven.

Traveller - Part Two

I look at him, as he's staring into the infinity, at the sight of the mountains and the sky meeting. He narrows his eyes and lets out a sigh.

"Mine isn't the story that'd make you think, or make you cry. I have no agonies. I've let everyone and everything go. I'm a happy man."

He actually does look happy. Peaceful. The man standing in front of me, all funky, is just something else. He has a lot of friends, I know. But of them, who knows him? Maybe everyone, maybe none.

"Okay, so tell me, what is the first thing that comes into your mind about your childhood?" I ask.

He closes his eyes, and a his lips curve into a million dollar smile. I wait for him to speak. I know he will.

"My old house. It was in the old part of the city. It is like one of those settlements of ancient times, where people would build huge bungalows, called the Waada's. It was a beautiful place, probably one of my favorites." His eyes light up like Christmas trees.
This person, who shows all flirty and funky to the world, is just a child inside. I smile.

"Yeah, I know." I say.

"It was a huge place, you know? There were all pillars, and so many rooms. And a hallway just right in front of the main door. Which reminds me of the main door, it was pretty big, too." I can see the trouble he has, explaining the details to me. I am just looking at him and smiling. This child needs to be heard.

"Whenever we had holidays, my cousins and I would have a lot of fun. We've played so much, we've troubled people so much, oh my God." He says.

"Okay." I say, unable to hide my smile yet. He's cute.

We say nothing for a while. I stand beside him, looking at the sun that is still nascent. There are fishermen in a boat, sailing far away. He clicks some pictures of them, while I just observe him. All the time.

"I was in fifth grade when I had my first crush." He says, rather declares. I chuckle.

"Fifth grade? Seriously?" I'm trying hard not to laugh.

"Yes, she was in my tuition classes. She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. But I can't remember why she never liked me."

"Maybe she was busy learning the table of 13." I say, still giggling.

"Ha-ha." He fake laughs.

"What more?" I ask.

"I told you there's nothing hidden deep inside. I'm a shallow person. I'm just who I am. Straightforward, clear. You won't find anything in me that people write about. I'm just me." He says.

"I know. Everyone is worth writing about. Now tell me, what happens after your fifth grade crush?" I enquire, being a little serious this time.

"I don't quite remember. Fast forwarding to class 10th, I had this girl in my class, Tara. I don't know what it was that I felt for her was something that's just pure. In this world of selfishness and lust, she was like a dew. I liked her so much that I never dared to tell her how I felt. School ended, and we fell out of touch. But at the back of my mind, she's always there. A few years earlier, I came across her in college. She was still the same beautiful." He is smiling throughout his mini speech.

"O-kay." I can see he is transported back in time when he had this crush. He's looking past me, with a smile affixed to his lips. He's just nostalgic, and I'm seeing a different side of him today. This isn't the Bunny I know.

"I tried doing Engineering, but I didn't like it. So I dropped it. Did 10+2, then BBA."

"Your dropped engineering?" I ask, a little surprised.

"Yes, I didn't like it. What is the point in doing something where your heart isn't?" He counter questions me, leaving me speechless.

"Amidst all this, I've been a model, too. I was pretty good at it." He says mischievously.

"You've done a lot, haven't you?"

"If you say so." Irrelevant response.

We get back into the car, and bid adieu to the lakeshore. I don't speak much. It's his day of speaking.

I check the time, it's 10 am.

"You know, I believe in astrology. Once, I'd been to an astrologer, and he saw the alignment of planets, and told me that I'd become a legend one day." He says, driving.

"Oh, that's nice." I mumble.

"Not just that one astrologer, but quite a few have told this to me. It just makes my belief stronger. Also, I know a little astrology myself." He tells me.

"Wow, I am quite fascinated by this, but never really looked deep." I say, unsure of what to speak. I hope it's coherent.

"Yeah." He says absent-mindedly.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"To the church." He says.

Stay in touch, you guys. Traveller series is about someone who has recently had a great impact on my life. Not extraordinary, but everyone is worth writing about. And that's exactly what I am doing.
The last part coming soon. :)

Traveller - Part One

It is 7 o'clock in the morning, winter. I feel cold, and have sneezed a few times. He's late. Mindlessly, I call him once. He doesn't answer. I just keep sitting there, I have no other option anyway.

My fists are cold, so cold that I don't feel them - numb. Same with my feet. I really need him to come as soon as possible.

"Dude, you're coming or no?" I text him. Last seen today 1.06 am. I am afraid he's still sleeping.

It's 7.20 now, I am thinking of going back home and sleeping again. As I make up my mind to finally get back home, the screen of my phone flashes.

"Bunny calling." Finally.

He says he will be there in five minutes and hangs up. And he really comes in the said time.

I climb into his car and the first thing I see is that he's shivering. He's dressed in a white t-shirt, a blue jeans, paired with a black leather jacket. He's wearing a cap - black, too - with Bob Marley written on it, twisted on one side.
"You have been waiting in this cold?" He asks, with an expression on his face that I cannot comprehend.

"Yes." I say, not knowing what to say any further.

"It's so crisp. Interested in having tea?" He asks, still shivering.

"Uh- I don't drink tea. You have it though. You really seem to need it right now." I say after a little thought of I don't know what.
He drives to a nearby tea stall, and buys himself a steaming cup of tea. He gulps it down within the blink of an eye, and asks me where I want to go.

I am clueless, as I tell him that I have no idea, and that will be happy to accompany him anywhere he goes. I just want to talk to him.

He adjusts his cap and thinks for a moment. For the first time, I look at him attentively. His cap reveals a strand of his hair. He has mild traces of beard that covers his jawline, and his eyes are smaller than I thought they were. He rubs his hands over each other and asks me to hop into the car. I do.

I notice a camera on the backseat of his car. He's busy in driving and none of us says anything for a little while. The music is playing loud, and I realize none of us would be able to hear if the other one says anything. I stay quiet.

When the song ends, I ask him, "So are you ready?"

"Yeah!" He says, with enthusiasm filled in his voice.

We again fall silent.

I keep stealing glances at him, he is so immersed in mumbling the lyrics of the song he claims to love, while he says he's gonna track down the lyricist and tell him how much he loves the song and ask what inspires him to write and that how can someone write this good. I just keep listening to him.

All this time, I am firm on one belief. He is not what he shows. He hides more than anyone knows. I have to know him. I have to know him. A few times I have conversed with him, he has seemed pretty sapient. I want to know what lies behind that wisdom.

We reach a lakeshore. Getting out of the car, we face the lake and let the cold breezes tickle us. I'm nonchalant, while he's restless as always. He steps back and rests himself on the front of his car, and looks at me. I stand facing him, not knowing what to say, where to start from. There's so much to talk.