Love Letter To My Beloved

Dear love,

I sit on the steps of your porch, watching the evening sunset, waiting for dusk to settle in and Storm within me to settle down. As I write this I'm slightly breathless, partly nervous but mostly astounded. Astounded by the events that unfolded in the last few months, by the enigma of this place, by my sheer inability to pen down something that is Worth you and by the enormity of the void your absence has created. You left me. In the blink of an eye, you were gone, shattering all your hollow promises and my own self.

It has almost been a week since I last came here. The garden is the same as you had left it. The lush green grass is slightly unkempt and the pathway leading to the gate is covered in a blanket of dried gulmohurs. The wild creepers still form a veil over the fence and the red roses still adorn the steps of this magnificent porch. I always thought that it looked surreal. This place was a kind of utopia that worked strokes of magic in our late-night musings and conversations.

But strangely today, I don't feel any divinity at all. Maybe it was your presence that made this place extraordinary. We could have sat here and created our perfect little world. But now, it hurts me to know that I have to live without you. Forever. I hate to admit this but I miss you a lot. Perhaps, I returned to this place to take something I have left behind; a lost piece of my heart seeking solace in this safe haven and finding a panacea to my sorrows.

Yet I'm unable to find comfort. This place asphyxiates me , haunts me with the ghost of your memories. Memories and broken dreams stream down my face with a catharsis of emotion. It is funny how the 'good memories' are always cried for and the 'bad' ones are laughed at. Shouldn't it be the opposite? But you have become a sad memory and I cannot imagine laughing at this in an obscure future.

Clusters of stars crowd the sky. The same sky that enveloped us as we poured our hearts out to each other. You were the dreamer and I, the believer. I try to make your face in the constellations like you did when you missed your parents. Once again I'm overwhelmed with nostalgia and longing. I desperately wish that you knew how it feels to be bereaved although I don't want you to go through the gates of hell. I chuckled silently as I reminisced how enmeshed in the bewitching fantasy of love, I thought that we would never end.

They say love never does. Yes. Love never dies, but lovers do. Our love too would never die. I will come back to here again, however much this place sucks the life out of me. I will return each day to search for you in the cool breeze that brushes against my skin, in the song of the nightingales and in the sparkle of the moon. Either I will find you again with the lost enchantment of this garden or become an unfeeling human untouched by the memories of this garden. This I will do until your memory no longer haunts me until your name brings a smile and not tears. I must survive and go on but without losing you. You are and you will always be the love of my life. A believer I was and a believer I'm. I will keep my promise and follow you to eternity.

Yours, lover,