My last poem to her

‘When are you going to marry?’ this question was a frequent.  My usual answer was ‘bring me some kanya’ and second one ‘will do when my parents would find SSS kanya.’ This question reminded me that I was no more teenager or first year college student. I was full grown man. I was 24. For me finding this SSS kanya, which you may also call girlfriend, was the toughest job. So I never went into this affair.  Or probably my heart never pounded at someone so mightily to push me physically to her to say ‘you are my SSS brand I was searching for.’

And suddenly, one day, it all happened. A divine force and I was pushed at this age of 24. I talked to her. She talked to me. It was amazing. I thought why this divine force didn’t happen me before. Anyway, ‘der aaye durust aaye’. She was beautiful. I was happy.  I liked her friendly nature. We evolved as friends.

One day she recited me a poem.  ‘He is amazing. He writes so nice. I love him,’ she added. I was amazed. I smiled and appreciated the poem. I asked, ‘who?’

‘Amit. My best friend.’

I was surprised.

Amit was my best friend too. He always used to tell me about a girl, rather I should call his girl friend or his SSS brand, he wanted to marry. I should admit I love writing. He forced me to write for her on his behalf. Since many months I had been writing poems for him. 
Then I realize it was the same girl. Then suddenly I had stopped to talk with him about my girl or his girl as mine. But, fortunately or unfortunately, he never realized when I became single again in our discussion. 

I never told her the truth and remained friends. They both were happy. If one lie could create such a happy relation, I chose to be shut.

And today he is going to betroth her. I am writing my last poem for her. If he needs me in future I would not deny. At least she likes my poems. 

It’s enough to make me happy.

‘Any difference I don’t find

Between your eyes and sunshine

Sun fills the nature with light

You fill my heart with bliss-wine'

*SSS stands for sundar, susheel, shikshit.

** this writing is pure fiction.

image courtesy : google