Awaiting You

Mehboob- The Beloved.

This day marks a year.

A year of our lack of communication.

A year of drowning myself in desolation.

It’s never been tough for me to pen down something. I’ve always felt connected to anything I get hold of.

I skim its resplendence out of it. Always.
It’s been always a piece of cake for me.

But then there’s You.

I can never pen you. I have read Bukowski, Keats, Shakespeare, Coleridge. To the other limit of extention, I’ve swallowed inks of Ghalib, Faraz, Meer.

They have a substitute word to call you.

Yes, You.

محبوب. The beloved

Their Mehboob. But I can never find it. I can never think another name for you. Because you’re the One.

The One.

Mine only.

I don’t want the same name for my beloved as others’ beloved have had.

And so is the reason, why I can never pen you.
So is the reason, why was it so damn difficult for me to pen down a letter to you.

All nights I used to spend in your enriched embrace, they made me so full of you, that now, without you, my nights are restless. No more soothing nights of slumber.
The evening coffee is no more. I wait for the coffee’s cream to come out on its surface. Yet, it never comes.

Just like you.

It’s been always me. Always me, to ask you. To start with you. To talk with you.
But no.
Not this time.

I am waiting for the coffee to cream out.
I am waiting for my nights to be peaceful.
I am waiting for my thoughts to come, so that I can pen them.

I am waiting for you.

I am telling you. I’ve always found some people related to some. I’ve never found someone totally different. Yet,
You are.

No one can ever supplicate you. You are Y O U for me. And you’ll always be. I love you.

~Awaiting you.

Author's Note

I literally have nothing in my mind right now. I thought why not try writing something. Also, hello everyone!! Imma Back