P's Notes

I bared my heart in front of someone today, But I don't know how I feel about it. I visited the long-forgotten lanes yet again today, But I don't know how I feel about it. I took her along with me, on the lane that was once my home.  But it was different today.  For there was no lump in my throat  while I showed her the dead trees. There was not a tear in my eyes when I took her over the crumpled leaf. I was walking with her and showing her things, as if I was never there before, as if that lane was never a part of my life. I wish I knew how did this happen. How I grew over something, that once killed a part of me. I don't remember when did it stop hurting. But it feels hollow for the pain is gone. There is a deep void and I don't know what to fill it with. I wonder if the pain was better than the void. I wonder what would I choose if I had a choice.

Rains can't be romantic for everyone. While I am sitting here on my window with a cup of tea writing how poetic this weather is, there are other people out there on the streets trying to navigate through the city amidst this heavy shower. Not just streets, even the roof on my head that I am taking for granted is a privilege for so many people.  I loved rains till the time raincoats did not become an inseparable part of it. Not that it's important but I have always hated raincoats and mosquito nets. They are confining and somehow always end up suffocating me. Umbrellas are lovely though, but they were never an option because I used to go to school on cycle. I remember how every day I used to come home drenched in rain (happily) and then make the same excuse that I forgot my raincoat at home. This went on until the day my mom started keeping it, in my bag, by herself each morning.  Everyone has that one friend who always stays without asking any question. Rain, in my li