Blake

Blake.

The strongest girl I know.

She's the man. She doesn't know grief, she doesn't point fingers, she doesn't play victim. She stands and deals. 

Beneath all the rough, cracked exterior, she has tucked away a really beautiful soul inside. A soul which is so pure, so bright, so loving. But in all the ways I have known her, I just couldn’t manage to understand why she is so broken, so messed up. It’s almost like she’s still searching for a missing piece to complete the puzzle that her heart is and it’s almost like she’s been searching for it for ages now.

But I know one thing for sure, all she ever needed, and will need, is love.

A Love so intense, it will make her forget how sceptical she is of the good things life has to offer.

I remember a time when I was so fucked up, I would have flung myself off our hostel’s terrace. But she had my back.

She liberated me in more ways than I can remember. She taught me to be strong; she taught me that my life is my own. Nobody can break my heart, nobody can hurt me if I don’t want to. She gave me a reality check when I was sobbing about my broken heart.

Together, eight months in Delhi seemed like a paradise. Life was never worse, but never better.

The two of us, roaming about in CP, or bargaining our way through Sarojini, or just walking around in Kotla Mubarakpur make up almost all of my memories of Delhi. Thank God I met her.

We were never roommates, we never had formalities. We were together and room no. 10 was our little paradise. We laughed our asses off at almost every other thing; hated Tuesdays, ate cheese sandwiches and Dominoes till we got bored of it, bought more pairs of socks than we needed, hit on the same hot guy down the block, roamed around South ex part 1 till our legs gave up and talked about every one of our dreams till 3 am in the morning.

We might be different persons to everybody else, we might even be different persons alone, but together we will always be Cindy and Moni, room no 10, Asha hostel 1562, N10, Delhi NCR.

 I know her devils and she knows mine. Together we passed one hell of a year; happy, sad, heartbreaking, exciting, fresh, dull, frustrating, both high and low as fuck.

I hope I was there for her as much as she was there for me.