We’ve walked some dirty roads together and climbed some wound up hills. We’ve travelled many miles of life together and now I find myself on a lonely road, sore without your presence, your guiding presence. You let my steps match yours, a rarity in this absurd world, even as I knew I am far behind in your walk of life. We talked some much, fought, parried and grumbled. Hurt, hurt, and envied. But laughed, and laughed so much. Sang, argued and talked. I learnt while you vented. I failed to answer and understand your swift mind sometimes but gained a world in every conversation. I hated you many times for being so calm (and correct) during my fits of anger and regular tantrums. People have told me how I have been the center of your universe and I didn’t see it through the daily grinds that we faced but I know I was your friend, more than anything else that I was to you.
Sometimes I forget what happened until those hazy visions barge into my mind and I am forced to remember how and what went by. It is the single most influential event in my life and I’ve lost more than I have ever gained from anything, including us. I need to talk to you sometimes, cry, laugh, whatever. I can’t stand the banality and mindlessness of conversations all around me; it makes me recall how we used to talk, which was nothing like anyone does anymore. Talks with you can be weighed in gold (for lack of a costlier metal), for the amount of knowledge anyone could gain, for the sheer pleasure of listening to your precision of words and navigation of subject. You were a clown. A king. A sailor, a minstrel, a soldier, my father. And like I do in my dreams, I hope to meet you again someday, when I have understood what you have taught me all along.
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