Today was a long day. Hours were hard to pass. Time is still the same, merciless, cruel and untamable. It’s over a year now and there is no change, still the air is cold and hurting. They ask me if I’m fine. I’m not, with her gone there is no shine. Every day is a battle and every night I escape death. This process repeats like every sunrise and sunset. I do not have the courage to give away that much to anyone and start over again. The moment I long for you, all my rigid courage turns into soft dust that blows away like the sand, vanishing in the aridness of the desert. We had been together since our childhood and now that I need you again, you are not there. My eyes do not search for you anymore but I can see our together times in every person who has that one friend.
I do not know for what I’m counting the days. I have been counting since a while now. Every passing day is an effort to calm this restlessness hovering over heart making it beat faster. I do not know what will be the outcome. I miss my best friend. Here in this new city without her is so much more than just bizarre. If she were present now, she could have been my regular visitor. This city could have seen what we share with each other. I look at the stars above and talk to her. Why was it necessary to depart so soon? I know you could have been happy to see me succeeding other people because I remember how we hated people!
Dint she knew me at all? All these years, all the word play we shared, all the connection, I’m not able to understand, where it all drained? She had those assuring eyes seeking me goodness and patience for every ups and downs I dealt with. And now there is just silence around. I trusted your presence so much. After everything going on now, it is hard to distinguish the real gesture from the betrayal of life. "I’m now weaker than a women’s tear and unskilled as an infant inside its mother."
My evenings are not filled with smiles and fun anymore. Now that she is gone, to whom I will show out my dramas and constant tantrums? Things are so quiet now; silence is so loud to bear. I connect with very few people; those people are worth my life. We kept our talks and crimes just between us that other people could not catch on our mysterious ways. I used to talk to her so much and now as I’m not out loud, the voices inside my head do little skits all the time portraying my melancholic junctures. Zillion numbers of thoughts at the same time, it keeps coming over and over. These voices keep dominating over me.
She was my best friend,
Say me now, to whom should I seek in the end?