Close your eyes and dream;

dream of the days when you wrapped bandages ever so carefully

on the boo-boo’s of your perfectly combed,

perfectly endearing dolls.

Dolls who were there for you when no one else was.

Destiny was never your question.

You were lucky in that sense:

You knew who you wanted to be,

you knew your purpose.

Fears didn’t exist in your life;

it never played a role in your perfectly imperfect world.

Fear shrank into a corner when it it saw your soul,

ever so deeply embedded in the scorns of time.

Regrets?

None, really.

Life lessons?

Don’t start smoking cigars at the age of 13.

But oh well-

all you knew was that you lived.

Plenty of friends- a bunch of devils:

living,

laughing,

crying the sorrows of someone else’s life,

giving and caring.

Those were the days,

walking in the cold,

numbness seeping into your blushed skin.

They used to say,

“Save one life, you are a hero.

Save hundreds of lives,

you are a nurse.”

You are a dancing star floating far above,

spreading light even in the crevices of darkness,

in the hope of bringing someone light.

One thing for sure- you are an angel.

a holder of someone’s heart and

comfort of someone else’s pain.

Your name may not have been remembered,

but your calming smiles were cherished,

your care was appreciated,

your soul would be remembered forever.

Your heartbeat resembles the sound of a courageous lion,

roaring through the troubles of screaming hearts and bleeding tears.

The pureness of a deep ocean pearl,

and the goodness of an angel.

Now you lay in your soft bed,

gazing out the window,

listening to the emptiness of sound,

for twilight to be found.

Dear Happy hour,

     I will wait for you as long as I can,

for you are the bandage to my boo-boo.

With love,

Shiksha i