A for Avi

Those were days when we used to hop on heavy bags and gulp down the breakfast to rush through the gates and run to our friends and smile towards the coming five hours. My 13th year, my 8th standard, my friends and un-sweet thing among these was the shuffling of friends, of sections, of teachers and of new faces. Philosophy says whatever happens to us always for good. either tangible or intangible. It indeed was. The lessons of friendship were fresh, were new and were revised. With new companions, new squabbles and new smiles. That was when I met Avi. A young yet tall, very tall boy wearing knee-length blue trouser uniform exposing his awkward hairy but well built legs. Wearing self acclaimed charismatic air, he went around in the corridors and stairs bubbling and cheering. I saw him very little among us, in the class, I somehow did not share sweet nothings with him. Yet there were many twilight when I thought about him, many songs I hummed for him, many times I wished him.
In one such mundane day, in between more mundane classes, he said that he to wishes the same. He said aloud "I love you". My answer was oblivion. Cowardice. I unwished my wishes. Thereafter, this game brought me back to the same point but I chose to choose the other move. I chose to lose. Again in an untoward mundane night, across a few cities, we talked. We talked into dawn. I said aloud "I love you". I chose to win.
Now I can say what Avi is to me. He is my way of defining life. He is my part of happiness. The companionship is more than prized. My promises, my complaints, my tears, my disappointments, my joys, my excitements all are in a circle centering him. He is an instantiation of all the relationships to me. He is the most treasured friend. He is the strictness of parents when I am deluded. He is the chocolate, the balloon, the flowers, the rainbow, the rains, the warm sun, the fleeting beautiful snow, the crescendo of jazz and everything that I love. He is my way of love. He is the realisation life.
He is meaning.

Something to write

It seems almost an era I have posted last. Blogging perhaps is my way of talking to myself whenever I want to, whatsoever. Now a days I somehow instantly make a story out of everything that my eyes catch a glance of. Nevertheless it can be a half finished tube of squeezy kissan jam having a cartoon of some monkay called King Louie who happens to love mango over banana! I know I am not making any sense. I am very tired these days. Rather my mind is. Hanging between leaving behind the tangible and intangible things and memories of past 23 years and the impending four, most exciting, happening, lonely and creative years of my life. Yes, I will be going somewhere. And that somewhere is very far away from my home. Though it is no more than 3 and a half hours of flying across many countries and above many homes and roads, I am afraid of not being able to come back through the same 3 and a half hours of flying that easily. I am yet to discover the numerously many other stuffs that I am afraid of. I still am numb to the feeling of looking everywhere around me and yet not finding out any of the known faces and smiles. I am afraid of changes. Changes that are sudden and untoward. I know I should not forebode evil.

Okay, yes I am happy and excited too nonetheless. I will be cooking whatever I feel like having. Now thats interesting to me, though it might not be for many others. In that case, I can cook for them also. I will be spending a lot of time doing nothing and yet not being shouted at. I am headed to discover a place where there exists four official language out of which I know only one and also completely dumb about the other three. I hope I will be happy always as people will find it preferrable to speak in the other three languages if they are talking not so good about me.

Overall, I think I need to experience every bit of it. And I am hopeful that each one will be a treasure for life.