Death

I was 16 when I imagined my first love. 

When the imagination dwindled, I thought love exists only in poetry. 

At 19, my school best friend told me, I will die without you.  I left him, dreading he would. Years later, he left for greener pastures, with a classmate.

At  21, I thought I would die if my 'imagined soulmate' leaves me. One fine morning, he woke me up to inform of his marriage. He said his poetry will die without me. I believe it did, for he found his passion in consultancy.
A part of me died that day. I think I made him up all inside my head. Nevertheless, he is still my escapade. And never leaves my head.

At 24, astrologers predicted I will die if I marry my then boyfriend. Both of us are alive. Perhaps, we would have strangled each other to death otherwise.

At 27, I thought we will die if we leave each other. Yet, I left. Because I never wanted my family reputation to die, irrespective of my life.
Both of us survived. With lots of alcohol amd smokes, some hatred, and my mind full of 'only ifs.' Every morning, my almost round rotis remind me of his roti-making lessons.

So when you tell me today, I can die for you, all I hope is, you don't. Because many people hope to die for love, which eventually dies. But it takes a lot of courage to live for someone because you want to keep the love (or the memory of it) alive.

If you love someone, live. Because your love is worth the fight to live. Don't take the easy exit. Please.

Cheers! To life, and love.