The Birthday Gift
It’s my birthday and you ask me what gift do I want from you.
I think about a thousand materialistic things that are sitting idle on my to-buy list. But none of them spring to life when I think about the value your gift would hold. I wander aimlessly in the aisles of my thoughts, picking them from shelves, dusting them, and keeping them back.
Passing by every rack in my mind, peeking in every corner, I fail to find an item that fits the criteria, completely.
Coming towards the end, as I stand in the last aisle, I smile. I smile because I have found what I was looking for. I smile because it gave out your fragrance and as I look at the little memories adorned on the strings of our love, I know what I want; I know what I crave for, completely.
One simple answer – You.
You; in all of your entirety, all of your beautiful fragile self. I want you, wrapped in the gifting paper that is life, studded with all your imperfections, and topped with your shabby hair and goofy smile. I come across the memories of your sparkling eyes and recall wanting to stare into them for eternity; I wish to lose myself in the spaces of the galaxies you hold in your palms – those soft, comforting palms. I want to trace branches of trees on your nerves, and bumps of rough, grassy ground on your spine.
I remember your first touch, first kiss, first hug, and how they opened the gates of my stomach to myriads of fluttering butterflies. I remember; I remember it all. And I want this gift on every birthday, every anniversary, every occasion that is going to come. Because you are that bunch of tangled strings that I want to untangle slowly, taking an entire lifetime.
Yes, you are what I want. You are the human form of all my dreams coming true. Because when I look at my favourite book, I smell your fragrance in every page; when I walk past my best smiles, I see your fingerprints on all of them; when I look at the stars, I see your your eyes sketched on the canvas of this sky.
So you see? You live in every memory, every dream, every wish of mine. I am lost in you such that I can’t tell if you are me or I am you like a purple made out of red and blue.
We are the perfect halves of each other;
And what better gift can there be than completing someone, completely.
Image Source : flickr.com