The one with 45 years

Dear Arahant,

With you, life has been of pastas over pizzas. Of working late nights, to spend the day together. Of weekend getaways, of days spent in bed, of unexpected kisses. Followed by senseless debates on Islam. And arguments on aircrafts. And then, on Arnab Goswami and Narendra Damodardas Modi, as you fondly like to call him.

It's been about playing scrabble for endless afternoons, and then not getting off my back about winning ONE rare game. Of cramped up elevators and waiting 20 mins for it. Of pictures and memories.

Of Whatsapp calls and FaceTime calls that have last for hours at a stretch. Of good morning messages and "I'm in potty" texts. Of susu, bra removing, then sleeping routine, and your picture requests with a puppy face.

Of my I love yous that have been reciprocated with your "So cool". Of drunk dancing to you singing, of shared cigarettes, while aimlessly talking in bed.

Of

"what happened"

"nothing, I'm sleepy"

"what happened"

"nothing, I have work"

"what happened"

"nothing, I'm tired", if you know what I mean.

In the end, with you, life is the proverbial forever, the one that romance novels and poets made us believe, existed.