The universe is emotionless; if I were to personify the cosmos at this moment, I’d definitely be reminded of an eighth grade teacher of mine, just an indifferent fat blob, the center of everything but detached from it all. On one such emotionless night, the sky was in a particularly mischievous mood. Clouds gathered like thick, overcrowded puffs of silvery smoke in a sky-shaped blanket, I know smoke reminds you off a bodacious fellow, James Dean-esque in stature and exhibit, a cigarette in hand, with curls of hazy fumes emitting from the inlet of those strong jaws. But no, that smoke is ugly, to put it very bluntly; an abomination to the eyes. The smoke I refer to? It is pure, untainted, innocent even. These opaque clouds, they decided to move in a horizontal fashion to screw with the minds of mortals that like to gaze up from time to time. One such mortal, she’s a dreamer, quite obviously the holes-in-her-soul category, probably an Aersosmith enthusiast, but it is Ludovico Einaudi playing in those earphones. As the piano chords chimed in her ears, she gazed up like everyone else, but unlike all of them she was caught in the silver linings. Caught in the dance of the silver against the black, it was as if God had unleashed unicorns into the deafeningly stormy night.

Her thoughts trailed back to another stormy night, not so long ago. Her body asked her what was happening but she had no words to describe it, nothing that could put what she felt to justice. She distinctly remembered it was Ludovico’s Nightbrook dimly playing in the background, the crescendos speaking to her like no mortal’s voice ever touched her ears. I told her we were two feathers, weightless, not giving a care to gravity yet in sync. Free in those few hours of darkness, free from any obligation to the mortal world, to the flesh that cradled her soul. She was wispy as those clouds she spoke of, she was fragile yet domineering, bent but continuous. He told her, ‘We’re heaven’s praises of perfection, we are two clouds, two stars, and when our lives wither away, we’ll realize that we too loved God and we too belonged to Him.’

And I was in the cosmos, with him. Who I loved. And in every breath, I felt thankful to be mortal. I was human, and it was human to love, and by God love was beautiful.

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My love, you have pledged to kill me at last but I see there is no determination in your promise. Have you forgotten? That time not so long ago? That smoky evening as the clouds danced above us? Can you feel this empty body? Do you remember the way we lived? You’re dying now, and all these years have disappeared. You’d like a few days more, but the winds are chasing the clouds now, blowing them away in ferocious gushes, the heaven’s are in a rage, probably something that we did, or maybe it’s just life. But you’ll never know, because you’re dying, and you lied when you told me we were perfection. Perfection is not immortal, perfection does not die, my love. I am willing to give everything. One last time, I’d like to see the wonderful Sun with you, than chase the stars and the clouds. But you don’t have a clue now, do you, because the night has gone, and the stars, we were the stars, we are fading through all the deceits. Everything we possessed is lost. And I cry, cry all the way, cry over how we lived those years, and now we are gone…

Din raat tora dekhun sapna, mori preet ki laaj rakhna.

Mora deen dharam tum ho sajna, mein tou sab kuch tum pe waar gayi.

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