So yesterday, my sister caught me as straight as it gets, “So, he is,ummmm , hee hee hee, what- your boyfriend? ”
I wish I could tell her how inadequate that one word is, and how it completely reflects my disdain for any kind of branding – be it clothes, or a relationship.
But then, how would I explain it to her?
The cold wind running through the hair during a bus ride,cooling the cheek.
Walking in the rain over black roads with bare feet.
The wind suddenly blowing the curtains around wildly.
The rain crashing over a glass window.
The hide and seek of the moon and the clouds.
Dark chocolate, midnight coffee and late night phone calls.
A sudden rush of words – devoid of rhyme and yet of poetic perfection.
The sudden whim to sketch on seeing a blank yellowed thick paper.
A postal package waiting for you one day.
Serenades, lullabies, dozing to sleep while listening to someone sing for you.
The wiry perforated shade of a tree, the netted sunbeam through its foliage.
A bouquet of flowers, a new book, the smell of old books.
Understanding unformed tears without words, crying with someone.
Sudden bouts of laughter over seemingly nonsensical reasons.
Choked throats and steaming tears streaming down over amovie.
Those few lines in a song with that aah-that-is-totally-for-me feeling.
A wide expanse covered by fallen leaves, rustling leaves against the evening breeze.
The sound of a strong storm during rain, the sudden jubilation it brings after a scorching summer day.
The feeling of a sudden skipped beat staring into the depths of someone’s eyes.
Bear hugs. Tight hugs. Or just resting in someone’s arms.
Kisses. Teardrops. Fingertips reaching out, touching each other.
Stupid games at midnight, the feeling of not growing up.
Travelling. Learning a new word.
Pitch perfect music sessions, endless singing sitting out ona rainy day with a cup of tea.
The tumultuous sadness of crashing waves, the caress of thefoam at the feet.
Inky dark depths of madness, sudden golden epiphanies, déjà-vu’s.
Feeling beautiful, inside and out.
Little lines that are so beautiful they make you want tocry.
Writing about all the things you wish you had the courage to say.
Melancholic trances, tormented thoughts about the haunting fragility of life.
Lying on the floor gazing at the ceiling with music on.
How could I tell her, that what you are- is an amalgam of these and a million more favourite feelings of mine ? There was no word, anywhere even close to attempting the same.
So I just smiled, and said, “ Yes, he is my , hee hee hee,boyfriend…”