I have learnt a lot from life in the past few years, the boldest lesson being, no matter how many peanuts life gives us , it’s completely up to ourselves how we sauté them into a scrumptious supper . You will have to know the art of alchemy to survive thrive and jive in the urban circus called life. And just when you think you can finally tackle the conundrum named life, there enters the shitty thing called love. I always wanted to understand love. For eternity it sounded so elusive and may be a bit unworldly to me. Elusive because it slipped like luscious salmons from my fist every time I tried to hold it and unworldly because I always believed it felt like munching some out-of-the-body divinely-orgasmic blackcurrant cheesecake to behold the one you love. I thought it was all about doing the outlawed, it was about pinked cheeks and flying kisses with a few hugs in between, about Archies Gallery and spoon feeding in public. It won’t make you claustrophobic, yet won’t leave you free. It will tighten its noose around your neck, but won’t choke you to death. It will stay there, firmly in place, and make sure you never slip. It stays on forever, but doesn’t get monotonous. Its like your favorite song that you keep on playing in a loop and still still still never get tired of.

But then, the fable doesn’t go like this. The legend reads a different script.

The fickle sweetheart is nowhere to be seen. I watch on and sigh and gasp. Today, it’s just not mere sunshine that tumbles on to my feet. It’s the dispersed parts of me that had departed soon after I woke up from my dream. Every time I look out, I see my golden-yellow infinite self, searching to get hold of all the detached pieces of me. I hate the cruel rains now, I hate the rhymeless clouds, it pierces all my countless selves that have tumbled on to many a feet. It cuts off the rays and disconnects all my parts, the golden-yellow infinite bits of me.

I hate the rains more, because, every time it pours, you wash my sunshine out of thee.