A_Aghori

I'm 75; Rain and Love

Everyday diary of an old man, filled with love, regrets, loss, loneliness, who loves to drink whisky and live a little longer.

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             It’s 12 am like every other night/day and yeah i’m drinking whisky. Well as i said before, i have no other choice. Was hung over the whole day. Damn birthday celebration. And it rained whole day.

         The problem with rain is that I fall in love every time it rains. I pour whisky constantly trying  not to fall in love again. Not because of age but because of my heart. It’s too weak to handle such complicated things. I never knew that love and rain were so connected until I lost love, lost the feeling of being loved. I still remember her matted hair, wet in rain as i walked away from her and it rained like hell. It was when i understood that rain and love had something in common.

                It has been a few years all alone trying to sort out things. I never knew love had such an important role to play in one’s life until it was way too late. It was raining just like today when she proposed to me, the same girl who had kissed me on my birthday. I still remember her pretty anxious face, that sky blue short frock she wore revealing her tender legs along with ankles. She always chose blue over other color just because I once told her that I liked blue. She had that thin silver ankle chain which her mother had given her, wow she looked beautiful. I still picture her anxious face fading away with tears. Sometimes u have to turn back in life, stop for a second and just turnaround before getting lost. That day all I had to do was to turnaround to look at her standing there without knowing what to do, but I just walked away, and now I turnaround a number of times to find no one standing behind. Each and every time it rains I imagine myself turning around to her completely wet in rain just to confront her that I was so sorry and that I loved her so much, held her soft hands, gave her a tight hug, kissed her all over the face, just to experience the same sluggish lipstick, warmed her and took her for a coffee. She always liked to drink coffee with me. She was the only one who used to like the worst coffee I made. Damn, I missed her so much. I miss her tender legs, that innocent face with a tiny speck beside the left eye, I could look at that speck all day long. We will never know the value of things until we lose them forever. I never found that kind of love even after my marriage though our marriage was kinda successful but it wasn’t a happy one. yeah there are differences b/w being successful and being happy. Well it doesn’t matter anymore, am i too old to fall in love again? I never knew since I never tried. I don’t even know whether she is still alive…

 pexels-photo-614501.jpeg               So after all these years, with all these recurring monsoons, with all those whisky bottles, cigarettes, and cups of coffee I sit there in the balcony all alone, wet in rain, picturing her beautiful face turned old filled with wrinkles and falling in love all over again.

Yeah I’m 75 and I fall in love every time it rains……

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