Letting you go
You know how they say it takes some days of consistently doing something to make it a habit? Religions all over the world have some sort of protocols for it. The Hindus have 9 days of Navaratri or 21 days of Ganesha. Muslims and Christians have their 40 days of abstinence. And once you follow this, you usually come out cured of whatever you thought you couldn’t get away from.
In your case, it beat all these benchmarks. You haunted my mind, many times subconsciously in my dreams, even till a few months back. And every one of this dreams had the same premise. You saying this was all a prank and you’re perfectly fine.
Then a couple of months back, few weeks before your death anniversary, I saw this dream. And it was the last one I saw of you. I was out with a few friends at a bar and I suddenly freeze. Everyone in the table asks me what’s wrong. And I say Bala is here. They don’t understand me. But I can see you standing next to us. You’re frozen too. No expression. Like the last time I saw you. Just frozen and standing. You scared me man. I was shaking, and kept avoiding looking your side, but you wouldn’t leave. And then I woke up. For the first time in all the dreams of mine you appeared in, I saw you finally the way you are. Dead.
You weren’t pulling a prank. You weren’t being funny. You weren’t my best friend anymore. You were someone or something else. After a year you decided to go that way, my subconscious has finally accepted.
Since that day I haven’t dreamt of you again. I can’t say for certain I won’t dream again. I waited to write this to see if that dream was a one off. But so far I haven’t thought of you again. In spite of all our friends coming together on your death anniversary to raise a toast to you, I didn’t dream of you after that.
I still think about you a lot. Like right now as well when I decided to write this. I really really miss you. Just can’t emphasise it enough. There are few people who know the real you in your life, and you were one of them. I shared everything with you and you understood me better than anyone else.
I miss having you to talk about stuff. I almost don’t feel like speaking to people anymore, because it doesn’t even come close to the conversations we used to have. Don’t worry, I’ve not become a recluse. Anyone who sees me thinks I have the best life ever. It’s how I portray myself. And I’m genuinely happy as well. But I don’t have deep conversations with people anymore. Just don’t feel like it.
Remember how you used to ask “are you happy?” Even that triggered deep thinking and meaningful conversations with you. Nobody asks that now. And even if they do, I’ll have nothing to say. Not because I have no content, but because I know the conversation will only be a pale shadow to what I had with you. And reminiscing my times with you is better than a half baked conversation now.
I wish you didn’t do this to me. Wish you’d have stayed alive at least for me. Such an arrogant prick. Always wanted to do what you pleased. Took all my energy to get through that hammer head of yours.
You just wanted to do this also. And now I have to continue living with a big part of my life missing. Those conversations with you. Disappeared in my conscious life and in my subconscious dreams.
I may still keep writing. I don’t want to ever forget you. Christ, you’re still making me choke up. But it may not be that easy to continue doing it. I’m not reminded of you as organically as it used to before. I thought about writing now only because I wanted to tell you how my thinking has changed. And after so many paragraphs, you made me choke at the very end. Some ripples still remain. And they always will. You and I always believed you never completely get over anything. You can always revisit when you want to. Our brains are powerful enough. And to top it, I have all these things I’ve written or photographed or saved as memorabilia through the years. So I can revisit any of my past any time I want to. So I will keep doing that. But it will be forced, and not organic any more.
After a year of leaving me, I’m finally letting you go.
In your case, it beat all these benchmarks. You haunted my mind, many times subconsciously in my dreams, even till a few months back. And every one of this dreams had the same premise. You saying this was all a prank and you’re perfectly fine.
Then a couple of months back, few weeks before your death anniversary, I saw this dream. And it was the last one I saw of you. I was out with a few friends at a bar and I suddenly freeze. Everyone in the table asks me what’s wrong. And I say Bala is here. They don’t understand me. But I can see you standing next to us. You’re frozen too. No expression. Like the last time I saw you. Just frozen and standing. You scared me man. I was shaking, and kept avoiding looking your side, but you wouldn’t leave. And then I woke up. For the first time in all the dreams of mine you appeared in, I saw you finally the way you are. Dead.
You weren’t pulling a prank. You weren’t being funny. You weren’t my best friend anymore. You were someone or something else. After a year you decided to go that way, my subconscious has finally accepted.
Since that day I haven’t dreamt of you again. I can’t say for certain I won’t dream again. I waited to write this to see if that dream was a one off. But so far I haven’t thought of you again. In spite of all our friends coming together on your death anniversary to raise a toast to you, I didn’t dream of you after that.
I still think about you a lot. Like right now as well when I decided to write this. I really really miss you. Just can’t emphasise it enough. There are few people who know the real you in your life, and you were one of them. I shared everything with you and you understood me better than anyone else.
I miss having you to talk about stuff. I almost don’t feel like speaking to people anymore, because it doesn’t even come close to the conversations we used to have. Don’t worry, I’ve not become a recluse. Anyone who sees me thinks I have the best life ever. It’s how I portray myself. And I’m genuinely happy as well. But I don’t have deep conversations with people anymore. Just don’t feel like it.
Remember how you used to ask “are you happy?” Even that triggered deep thinking and meaningful conversations with you. Nobody asks that now. And even if they do, I’ll have nothing to say. Not because I have no content, but because I know the conversation will only be a pale shadow to what I had with you. And reminiscing my times with you is better than a half baked conversation now.
I wish you didn’t do this to me. Wish you’d have stayed alive at least for me. Such an arrogant prick. Always wanted to do what you pleased. Took all my energy to get through that hammer head of yours.
You just wanted to do this also. And now I have to continue living with a big part of my life missing. Those conversations with you. Disappeared in my conscious life and in my subconscious dreams.
I may still keep writing. I don’t want to ever forget you. Christ, you’re still making me choke up. But it may not be that easy to continue doing it. I’m not reminded of you as organically as it used to before. I thought about writing now only because I wanted to tell you how my thinking has changed. And after so many paragraphs, you made me choke at the very end. Some ripples still remain. And they always will. You and I always believed you never completely get over anything. You can always revisit when you want to. Our brains are powerful enough. And to top it, I have all these things I’ve written or photographed or saved as memorabilia through the years. So I can revisit any of my past any time I want to. So I will keep doing that. But it will be forced, and not organic any more.
After a year of leaving me, I’m finally letting you go.
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