-
Medicine
For a sick person like me, she is the medicine. The medicine in the form of water, when we’re sitting in front of the ocean, together. The medicine in the form of breath, her slow, deep breaths turning into sleep in my arms. The medicine in the form of silence, when we are talking through
-
Happy Birthday, Little one.
the last page of this letter can be found here.
-
Why?
I dealt with this question all my life. I read the greatest thinkers, I pondered on countless books. I drowned in deep conversations, and at the end of all of it. I wondered, Why? Unrelated to the ideas in the books, the conversations, the thinkers and the philosophers, just why should I go through with
-
Refresh
“Can I refresh now?”, she said. A whiff of joy percolating inside me every time she says those words. It’s 4 am. I can’t sleep. Driven into the exhausting spirals that consume me, I’m watching her sleep. Innocence. She sleeps without a worry in the world, I will always envy her for that. Her upper
-
Patience
“I physically cannot wait”, she said. I cannot wait too, I thought. Am I going insane? All I could think about was her— all these days. Waiting patiently for her calls and messages, for her stories and laughs, I left a part of me incomplete for her to fill up. Going all the way to