Yes. You. Now, I don’t know whether I love you or I don’t. Or maybe I just remember you when in a dire situation and hence, I am selfish. I often compare things. ‘See, he got that, she got this and when will I get it?’ And I don’t know you either. I haven’t seen you either. Haven’t heard from you. I have only felt you. I know you exist, I know you can look at me, see me but I cannot do that. Oh dear! This philosophy I am getting into is so deep that I just listen to it for a few minutes and then go back to pop songs of the day because pop songs give instant rush and you asked me to sit quietly, patiently, without moving even the eyeball. Leave that, I can’t even wake up on a particular time daily. I tried to meditate, I wasn’t able to do that either. See, life is easy and life is hard but what I lack is the fire of passion. I am your lazy baby. I have heard that you are absolutely kind, the absolute beauty, but dear, you are so beyond my imagination that all I can do is just be a bit regular with my puja. I remember you everyday. Everyday, I want to meet you. I know that you meet me everyday but how will I meet you too?
Also, whether I have devotion or just a conditioning to smile as soon as I look at your picture, I don’t know that. What is devotion after all? I eat hurriedly without tasting it. Likewise, you might be a conditioning. Anyway, the little I get from my efforts that you make me do is beautiful and that is what keeps me going. You are beautiful. You are sukshma and when will I touch your feet? Okay, I don’t have devotion, I don’t have bhav either, I try to look at you and imagine how you will just walk out of the photograph and it would be a miracle when you keep your beautiful hands on my head full of stupid thoughts. And let me tell you a secret, sometimes, I imagine so much, I think I am you. Like you- kind, loving, helping, ever smiling, walking gracefully, but hola! Here I am. Clumsy as always, a little rude, a little harsh but a speck of little love is there too. At night, I call out to you. When will you walk out of that little photograph? I know, I know that little space within the frame is not enough to hold your magnificence, but dear, with whatever little I call you, will you not come to me? Or call me to you? You can be Swamiji or you can be God, I don’t know. I doubt whether I will ever know you. My head and my consciousness hasn’t developed so much to fathom you either. With this little heart with such a meagre devotion, I say, I want you. I know I am like millions out there, busy in Maya and I am not ashamed of it. I have a reason for most of the things I do. See, I am shameless too. But it’s kinda okay, no? In this Kalyug, I am not going out of syllabus after all. Anyway, I want you. Teach me how to love. Teach me to fall down at your feet like those beautiful beings who connect with you as soon as they see your picture. I want that too. I don’t want this head so untamed. I want you. You. You. Now, come quickly and look at me, I have heard how beautiful your eyes are, they are oceans of kindness. Ocean is a little word. Anyway, I don’t know whether I am fit for it either. Let it be. I am waiting. I want you. I want to love you like love itself. Come to me or call me towards you. I don’t know. Just be with me. I want you.
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