An old rag doll, your memento, is a way of my life. Mozart’s music is useless and I have turned off my music player. I hate ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star’ and these people. See Nehan, they have taken your sweetheart to a lunatic asylum. I don’t like this place. I could bring my doll with me, with much difficulty.
For a decade here is no rain. Can you help? I forgot to tell you that I’ve grown my hair. Yeah! I will show you when you return to me after the completion of your date with God. And about the rain…ha-ha. Our rose tree is dead now. I asked Dr. Dsouza to give me the next, but he denied. Please, do come with the red rose; then I will give you a thank-you kiss as I did the last time.
I am suffering from amphiboly for a long time. You were right, I don’t get anything properly. I am confused always. No friends to make me understand. Last time Dr. Dsouza gave me an injection. It was extremely painful. This time there was no one to give me a handkerchief saying, “Don’t let the canal of your eyes open through which the tears flow. It has a side-effect in my heart. I am no more myself. Accept this handkerchief. I want to capture the drug that hurts me.” But now I am almost used to with the injection. My eyes are dry. I miss you immensely, immensely.
Rain always makes me remember your dance. I wish to drench in the rain matching dance steps with you. Whenever the wind blows, I close my eyes and feel you. I wish I could close them forever. God is so rude to me.
Do you remember making collage? I do. When I try to prepare those people call me mad. Damn… no support.
My friends are strange totally. They laugh for nothing. Umm… and sometimes cry out. They hold my hands till a few steps and leave. I am alone. Nehan, you gave me promise to hold my hands forever and ever. Can I be sure of that? Or, I am lovelorn? Answer me. I trust you. I know our love is eternal…