Of Double Dates and Rainy Days (and smooching upstairs)

This was the double date. 

With our friends Arshia and Soham.

I can't even begin to express how lovely it was. This took place on the 29th of September, during our puja break. It was Nobomi, the 9th day of Durga Ma gracing our Earthen abode. Plans made a little impromptu, very new to me, we left. I informed mum properly this time and she gladly allowed. She was a little relieved, I believe. We were very excited because in spite of the fact no one was saying it blatantly- it was, a double date. 

We had planned everything on a whatsapp group we now call Amazing Grace, punning on Arshia Grace Manavalan's name. :3

So our plan was to meet at Soham's, and then set off for Salt Lake to see the pandals there. Arshia texted me beforehand saying, "Please come at 10. Not before that. I need to snog him. Don't tell Rounak." I didn't. Not then, anyway. I told him later and we giggled. We had already had our chance by then. 

Meeting Rounak's mum and Soham's mum, we set off. We went to see Nobodurga near Sitala Mandir, which was incredibly majestic. The lions were impressive. 

I'll type a full blown out post later. This has been on hold for a long while. I'll just upload it now. 

Lovely day, you shall be remembered. 

Terrified forevermore.

I'm terrified.
I'm terrified of the building collapsing on me as the Earth shakes from the tectonic plates clashing together, the brick and cement structure coming crashing down on my body, all of 70 kilograms, crushing every bone in my body and squeezing me like a sponge, except water does not come out.
I'm terrified of pain.
Of the many probable ways my death can take place and the umpteenth ways it can hurt. There's always capacity for more pain, just like there is more capacity for love and compassion.
I'm terrified of meaninglessness.
Often now and then, I slip into a place where everything is bereft of it's energy. Where I am nobody and nothing. Nothing matters any more.
I'm terrified of not being a somebody.
I'm terrified of the immensity of time, of it's almost-tyrranical tick. The sands of time slipping by, shifting restlessly.
I'm terrified of the memory where I believed I would forever be alone.
I would forever have to live by myself, and it wouldn't matter, because I wouldn't have any one. It certainly hurt less then than it does today.
I'm terrified of losing my love.
Of my love slipping away from me. Of his being so distant, and I don't just mean physically, but emotionally, that reclaiming his attention, his time, is a tedious task rather than a pleasurable pursuit. Of the desperation that entails. I am scared of the desperation I sometimes feel as dread fills my lungs and it hurts to breathe because your chest is so tight. So impossibly tight.
I'm forever terrified of a million things.
Of the uncountable probable ways I might die, of the memory of a time when I didn't know you guys, of pain, of losing him.
Yes, I'm always terrified.
Always, always. Of the iron-click of the manacle that hinders, of the chains of society that force you to slog relentlessly, without respite. Of the unfathomable ways in which a human life is rendered so fragile in the environment one lives with at large. Of the ephemeral flame of life. Of the scarring effect of pain. Of the moments of fleeting, wholesome happiness. Because they never return again. And so, like Norwegian Wood taught me, I seize them unflinching.
Always terrified.
Yet without something to lose, would I have met you my fiersome, wholesome, stupendously terrifying lifeline?
I am always terrified.
And perhaps that is why, I can't help but love you with all my might. Despite the despair of pain. Despite the many uncountable ways I might die.
My bittersweet, wholesome, terrifying love.