𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧: 𝐀𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢 (𝟏𝟖+) ✅

33

ना जाने कैसे लफ़्ज़ होंगे वो

जो उसे मेरा बना देंगे

इस उम्मीद से इबादत करता हूँ उस ख़ुदा की हर रोज़

कम से कम मुझे तो तेरा बना देंगे।

(I worship that God with hope

That at least will make me yours

Every day, I wonder what words

That will make you mine

With hope, I worship that God

At least will make me yours)

Akshat

Her words reverberate relentlessly in my mind, a relentless echo that refuses to fade. It's been an eternity since she uttered those fateful syllables and departed, leaving me stranded in a desolate whirlwind of disbelief. For two hours, I stood rooted to the spot, my body betraying me only when sheer exhaustion finally wrestled me to my knees. The impact as I collapsed onto the rain-soaked pavement felt insignificant compared to the shattering of my world.

I didn't notice when the heavens opened up, drenching me to the bone. My screams tore through the storm, a desperate plea to the indifferent skies. With every shout, my throat burned with raw anguish, a visceral agony that matched the torrential downpour. Her name became a mantra, a madman's chant as if the repetition could summon her back to me.

But she remained absent, swallowed by the night, leaving behind only memories that taunted me with their absence. I shut my eyes against the onslaught of tears, each drop a testament to the anguish consuming me from within. Through bloodshot eyes, I scanned the empty road, clinging to the irrational hope that she would return, that her absence was but a cruel illusion.

In the darkness, I yearned for her touch, for the reassurance of her embrace. I longed to hear her whisper declarations of love, to feel the warmth of her words against my skin. In the depths of my despair, I pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening, bargaining for her return with promises I knew I couldn't keep.

I imagine her returning to me, her touch a soothing balm against the wounds of abandonment. In my reverie, she speaks words of solace, words that pierce through the darkness like a beacon of light.

In my dreams, she whispers that it was all a cruel illusion, a nightmare from which we shall awaken hand in hand. Her delicate fingers gently cup my face, tracing the contours of my despair, as she declares her undying love. With fervent conviction, she assures me that she loves me more than life itself, and that she is steadfast in her commitment to weather any storm by my side.

I ache for her to reassure me that my love is enough, that my flaws and imperfections are but a testament to my humanity. I yearn to hear her pledge to stand by me through thick and thin, to embrace the complexities of our connection with unwavering resolve.

I would sacrifice everything to witness the fire of passion reignite in her eyes, to feel the heat of desire burning between us once more. In the sanctuary of my imagination, she is mine, and I am hers, bound together by an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of love's trials.

If she couldn't be mine again, then at least let her love remain untouched by another. Let her gaze be reserved for me alone, her heart forever tethered to mine. I would endure any torment, face any hardship, if only to bask once more in the radiance of her affection.