If he loves you now, what else matters? He's not perfect. You aren't either. And the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, cause you to think twice, and admits to being human and making mistakes, hold on to him and give him the most you can. He's not going to quote poetry. He's not going to be thinking of you every moment. But he will give you a part of him that he knows you can break. So, don't hurt him. Don't change him. Don't expect more than he can give you. Try not to over-analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad. And miss him, when he's not there.
That's from one year ago, well a year and a few days now. But then it was that magic of possibility and returns again, with a new spring.
Not that it needed to wait for spring to fluorish. It's just that magic of comparing then to now and saying ok yes, some things are the same.
Last evening was one of those brilliant gloomy ones. You feel, smell, sense that revitalizing essence that is spring. I had to get off a train that decided to stop working and I was overwhelmed suddenly by the beauty of the evening. The balmy wind though your hair like a caress, on your face like a lazy kiss. The mist that tingles your visual faculties and blurs everything into a serene mystery.
And that happy feeling of being able to listen to some really good songs after a vacation from good songs. And the magical hum on the airwaves, something that's there on the horizon, or whispering through the breezes, at some times you pick up a note of tu hi arzoo hai tu hi justju hai baaki ab raha kya? or the opening chords of kisi ka sapna lage tu.., somehow there is magic in the air and it comes out curiously and tickles your senses so that it leaves you like a kitten fascinated with a ribbon that keeps eluding yet enticing. You feel like tilting your head to the side like one and yet pouncing into the air with exuberance. Or maybe that's just me.
Mrow.
