All I Have To Do Is Dream.

I dreamt of you. You looked like you did when you were in the 5th grade. We had a conversation and I remember laughing at something funny you said.

Then, you had to go.

I waved, but you just kept looking at me. I waved again, thinking you couldn't see my hand in the crowd. You didn't wave back.

What I'd give for you to somehow come back.

Wish You Were Here.

We went for a holiday without you for the first time, last week. It felt so alien to not have you being frustratingly protective about Mamma, Tanvi and I in public places. We had a lot of fun, but kept thinking of how much you would have enjoyed it had you been there.

Tanvi and I missed you especially when we went to a water park. I had no one who wanted to go on the almost-vertical body slide with me. And no one helped me dunk Tanvi under water when she was chillin’ on a tube. Oh, and I missed you so much when we drove quad-bikes in the desert! There’s only so much fun you can have zipping past everyone else when you don’t have anyone racing you and goading you to attempt jumping off a dune.

Your birthday’s coming. I remember how you just wanted everybody in the family together for the day – and it actually happened! Only because you willed it to happen. That was one of the nicest days of my life.

This is from that day when Tanvi insisted we go to the Juhu beach. I look like shit, but it’s too natural a picture for me not to love it.

Back to Delhi tomorrow. Mixed emotions. I want to stay back and chill at home. But, I'm also looking forward to interning for the next six weeks.

I miss having the five of us together. I still haven't gotten used to saying "the four of us". I don't think I ever will. It's unnatural.

Yesterday was the first time after December that I told somebody about what happened. It's amazing how quickly my mood can swing from happy to sad.

I've gone back to my old habit of keeping everything inside. To be honest, I feel like a burden on people when I talk about it. Who wants to be with somebody who puts a dampener on things all the time? I'd rather deal with it myself.

Besides, it's not like talking about it makes it go away.

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Paradise City.

My last exam is day after tomorrow. I can't wait to just get it over with and go back hoooome. It feels like I haven't been to Chandigarh for ages, even though it's only been like a month.

I'll only get to spent five days with ze family, though. Will be in Gurgaon doing an internship for most of the summer. And then I'll be off to summer school in London. College will have already started by the time I come back. Won't go home again till August, basically.

Packed summer. I hope it's interspersed with lazy weekends.

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Read this somewhere and loved it.

"You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before, she may love again. But, if she loves you now, what else matters?

She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together. But, if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart.

So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there."

— Bob Marley

Somebody that I used to know.

I'm sitting at your desk and studying for my Macroeconomics final. My eyes wander as I look for reasons not to study.

I see the pendrive you put songs on to listen to in the car. I see a pen you saved for special occasions. The hand-held air pump you bought for your football. Countless PS3 games that you kicked my ass in. The massager you used when your muscles were sore from the treatment. The diary you tried to maintain, but filled instead with Fantasy League permutations.

"This Diary belongs to a Cancerian who has cancer."

I rode a bike for the first time today (the motor kind). My first reaction was wanting to share the experience with you. You would've been much better at it. I almost crashed into another bike. You were always cautious. To the extent that you'd even avoid driving a car out of the fear that one of your muscles would spasm because of the steroids you were on and you'd put people in danger.

As I use the pen you must have used to do your homework for the last time, I realize just how much you took with you, even though you left all these things behind. There is a you-shaped hole in my heart that will never be filled again.

I miss you. Every single minute of every single day.


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Let the light come in