When I die, this is all that will remain of me. |
There are a lot of things I think I should've said to Amy; but I think I said what matters the most. I hope she heard it all through the... wall. Through the grass. I was sobbing all the while; a thick ball hanging in my throat; almost unable to keep my eyes open. There were no tears, though. That came later; while coming back to Mumbai. We flew over there, Kate and I. I'm thankful to her. I don't think I could've afforded an air trip to Ahamadabad. She bought the tickets. Kate was there in the cemetery when I said it. We talked some while going. She said she was getting married this March. I'm back home. The same tattered home, with the same silent loneliness; feeling something I just cannot define. It's not sorrow, not joy, not release, not emptiness--but somehow a mixture of all of these. All I'm feeling, I think, is worthless. Life is worthless. It ends in death. Cruel death. I came home to witness another Dad v/s Mom match. Dad left away in anger. I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about anything. But this stupid, bigoted, totally shitty mind of mine reminds me everything all the time. Memory. Fate's biggest AAMRAM. Some of you said that time heals everything; but I don't think that's true. I won't care for anyone as much as I did again. Never. And though it should matter somehow, it doesn't. |