love.

This was the day—the day I had been waiting for the past seven years to come, filled with grief, expectations, empathy, love, and what not. I still have her voice in my head saying, “Don’t worry, it’s all fine. Don’t stress, I am here for you. I will make your sorrows fade. Let me come to you, it’s just a couple of days.”

And this is the day she said she was coming to meet me—the first time we were going to meet each other. We would see each other… no, I can’t. God didn’t give me eyes. But I am sure this will be the day I complain to God about my eyes for my entire life. But wait—God gave me her as my eyes, so why should I complain? It was God who gave her to me and made me the luckiest person in the universe.

Thinking all these thoughts, I plucked a marigold from my garden to gift her. I made her favorite dish. With all these thoughts running through my mind, I was walking along the footpath to meet my eyes, to hear her voice. Now I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, my legs trembling with joy. I can’t stand still—I am blushing and walking with my white cane (the stick used by the blind). I feel as if the stick is also dancing with me. He was my only friend before her, and now I have both her and my favorite stick, with my heartbeat at its peak.

I reached the restaurant, but… she didn’t arrive. I waited for her the entire day, but she never came. I went there the second, the third, the fourth time, but she never came. Still, I keep going there with my white cane, hoping she will come one day to meet me.

Sometimes I think—what if she also thought, “Why should I throw my life into the trash by living with him?” But I know someday she will come, sit by my side, hold my hands, rest her head on my shoulder, and explain why she couldn’t come that day.

In the way the sky holds the sun

In the way the moon holds the stars

In the way the trees hold the leaves

And the marigold in my garden blooms