it has been three years since we committed ourselves to
this relationship. i have grown quite comfortable with you and your small body. beige walls and the white ceiling with a fan covered with layer of dust and cobwebs add a sense of calmness and stillness to you. we have come so close that your smell is now synchronized with my mood. there are days when you stink of unwashed laundry and dirty dishes. you don't complain, you understand how i hate the mundane chores or i am too preoccupied to care about these things. this stink is sometimes the signal of my phase when i don't feel like doing anything. but then there are days when i clean your mess that i created in first place and at the end i give you a sponge bath with some phenol added to the water. i find that smell repulsive, reminds me of hospitals. but i do it for you and it means i am trying to get my s**t together. and then there are nights when you smell of maggie cooked with extra masala in my electric kettle to treat those sleepless hours. we are both happy on such nights, giving each other our company.
now that we are so intimate, it is amusing to recall how awkward it was in the beginning. i was not used to you.i had been with someone noisy and lively before. and i shared him with my sister. here it was just me and you.i confess i was very unfair to you, i still am. when i learnt i can't go to my home for my first year of college due to some family issues, i used to lose temper on every phone call from ma or dad. for the times when i flinged things at your walls, steel glasses, diaries, shoes or whatever my hand could get hold of and for the times i screamed ‘fuck you’ multiple times, i am sorry. i genuinely am. (that's why i have resorted to tearing old newspapers now a days.) i know i had you but i still missed home and the people he lived with, my family.
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