Here’s To Her

I closed everything on my phone and looked out of the window. The sun was just about to rise, and so was a new dawn in my life.

We had exchanged words all night. One could say that so far that was the only thing we had. But more beautifully, that night was all about the words we didn’t say to each other before. The meaning between the lines, the crafty no responses and the backspaced sentences were all shared, either directly or indirectly. A word sent that night held in a thousand sentences held back before, and each sentence read that night flooded my conscious like my subconscious usually is.

Describing her is a tough task – not because of the fact that my vocabulary often fails me regarding her, not even because my mind goes into noise cancelling mode when I think about her. I have the words, but I don’t know which ones. I’m around a cacophony, and it doesn’t bother me today. But, words are all I have.

So, here’s to her.

There’s beauty between humans – a beauty which is not seen or observed. It is felt and heard, very much like raindrops splattering on a roof. This very beauty is the one languages have tried to capture, for the pen can show what the brush and the camera can’t. Between humans, it is a mix of darkness and light which paints this beauty. It is the fine balance of shade and light which seems to create the beauty of boulevards. And life is nothing but journey along a boulevard, and at times beneath a tree, in the netted patterns of shade, you need someone to play the game of dhoop chhaon.

Here’s to her, the girl who is captivated by dhoop chhaon.

The art of succinct and sure transfer of messages may be a skill, but when it comes to bonds, it becomes a habit – a trait which is fueled by the bond itself. The proficency to ‘tell’, summarize, and share in the least of words comes after a great deal of amity has been passed back and forth. But more so, it is about you saying the right things at the right times to them, which has never happened to you with anybody else. It is about finding the words that they were struggling to find, and giving them the satisfaction that you understand what they mean. It is about how much you can say to each other while being as laconic as possible.

Here’s to her, the girl who believes in trials at brevity.

Sometimes, however, it is about letting the words flow. However difficult and troubling it seems, venting your mind is the first step to trust. As a benefittor of multiple chances to say and share things I couldn’t frame and things that wouldn’t come out, I am the testament to the blessing an open ear is. Sometimes it is a chance is all you need, but well, chances and life have one thing in common – you never know when they can surprise you. People who are a sound listener and a patient reader, the world needs more of you. Every person who has something to say needs more of you. Every struggling Manto needs more of you.

Here’s to her, the girl who stands by ‘Bol ke lab aazad hai!

Bol ke lab aazad hai!‘ comes with it’s humongous share of responsibility. The responsibility is a little about saying things well, saying the right things, and probably about touching a chord somewhere. There’s nothing as exhilirating than impacting someone close with something true and heartfelt, bringing out a response that you know is a prized one. It is that one response that makes you realise that somehow you’ve not messed up, and that you have actually, once again, done something right.  As someone who is a klutz in every sense, it is a response people like me strive for.

So here’s to her, the girl who doles out ‘aaye haayes‘.

But there are a lot more things about that night. Things that I do not have the capacity to share –  not only because I cannot pen them, but because I am so overwhelmed. So far it wasn’t me thinking, it was a warmth in my fingers driving them across the keyboard. And it’s getting hotter. There’s a stupid smile, a happy heart, and a peaceful mind. For probably the first time, I have no complaints with life. I could almost start dancing on the street. Yepp.

Here’s to her, the girl who writes yep with two ps.

Here’s to her.

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