To read the first three parts of the series, Read Below:

The GIRL who taught me how to DREAM – Part 1

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream – Part 2

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 3

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 4

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 5

Dear Trisha

Yesterday, I stood for hours in front of the blank canvas that still sits on the easel, in your room. That means I, finally, was able to enter your home office, after such a long time. I still cannot believe how I was able to gather the strength to step inside the room, where every little thing held an innumerable bundle of your memories. I have kept the place exactly as you had left it. I do get it cleaned once in a while so that the dust doesn’t irrevocably settle over your fragrance and consume the warmth of your presence.

They say time heals every pain but they don’t know what if the familiar pain seems more comforting than the unknown happiness. 

I thought I would be swamped by the streams of our ruminations if I had stepped in that room and that my heart would be unable to handle those overwhelming emotions. But, I was wrong. It didn’t break me as I had previously expected. On the contrary, I felt an uncanny sense of calmness there. It was as if I was lost in a discordant chord of music that somehow sounded melodious. The melody of our incomplete love story that is more complete than any of the ones existing in this world. I didn’t feel sad of you not being with me rather I felt you within my heart and soul as never before. In the midst of this, the whiteness of the canvas stared back at me, painting itself with the invisible colours, the one thing that this heart dearly longs to witness for once. The image of your smile that I could see clearly beyond the emptiness of the canvas. And all I did was just to stare at the fleeting beautiful moment, hoping and struggling to capture every essence of it while it lasted.

I won’t take full credit of how I was able to make up my mind to enter your room. To be honest, Time had been a silent partner in making this decision. As I did mention in the last letter, that I am in a constant war with time to save our memories of togetherness. Well, baby, I am failing at that. My mind is unable to keep up with the pace of retaliation that my heart and soul is putting in front of time. It is slowly eroding away my ability to remember things though my body is constantly pushing every trickle of your reminisces along with the blood in every cell of my mind. The way your soft face brushed through my rugged skin, the way your lips curled before we kissed, the way your fragrance veiled my sense whenever you passed by me, the way our fingers interlocked with each other, the way your embrace felt like a safe shelter, the way your tears indelibly etched the moistness on my hands as I wiped them away, the way your laugh filled my heart with infinite happiness, the way you made every simple thing the most beautiful memories, the way now my heart fights back with time to keep these alive in at least one corner of my mind.

It has turned out to be a never-ending negotiation, in which I don’t have much left to bargain with. Sometimes, even though losing in the fight, I try to make the most of it and today is one of those days Though time has been able to snatch away a few of these recollections, it has been able to alleviate some of my unbearable pains. So, here I am standing in our room, with a renewed courage within me.

I have promised to complete the to-do-list that you left for me to finish and so if losing one of the many battles with time, helps me to achieve at least one of those, I would gladly lose the rest of the fights for it.

The colour palette that lies on the canvas stand, has dried off. The paintbrush still remains soaked inside the cup of water. A bunch of completed oil paintings lies stacked at the side of the wall. The desk is cluttered with many white sheets of sketches. The half-broken charcoal pencil looks at me helplessly. I pull the revolving chair towards me and sit on it. Immediately, I feel you standing behind me. I look back hurriedly and find Blacky sitting on the outside the room. I know he misses you a lot. It is so heart wrenching to see him, sitting at the entrance of the room with its head resting on the threshold and eyes waiting for your arrival. Animals have their own ways of expressing remorse with silence and patience, unlike us humans who just have to move on with life.

As I look through those scattered sheets of your drawings, I pick up one of those that lay hidden under the other ones. At once I feel a sensation of sparks through my skin as I look at the faint black outline of my face. A teardrop starts to brim at the corners of my eyes as my heart quietly realizes what the next painting of yours was supposed to be. I looked back at the emptiness of the canvas while the hands of the clock on the wall behind quietly moved on.

The deficiency of time had always been the perpetual enemy in our fragmented love story… 

…Yet no matter how quickly the moments betray me, my love for you will adorn the time as a stubborn defect, for eternity.


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To read the first two parts of the series, Read Below:

The GIRL who taught me how to DREAM – Part 1

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream – Part 2

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 3

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 4

The Girl Who Taught Me How To Dream Part – 5


Destiny!!! By Dee Kay & Roy

My Girl … by Roy


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