And oh that face!

I don't think I have ever been more fond of a face in my life. I can stare for hours at his photo. That one photo in particular. And the other photos too, in general. Thank God I have so many photos of him. It was unthinkable for me a while back that I would be in such a strange kinda love, so basically there was no reason for me to preserve his photos. And I am apprehensive and reluctant in strange ways. In getting his photos from other people or sources. Won't even download. I don't understand this well, i.e. why I have this reservation...it feels strangely encroaching to download someone's photos from the web. I don't have any right over the photo. In fact that's why I never downloaded Rito's photo as well. I just have that one photo of his which came in my Orkut dump. Best friends for years, inseparable in college, yet we don't have a single photo together. It was not the age of the camera phone na? I don't have any proof to tell the world that I knew him once. Only that image (and many others) permanently etched on my mind - that evening when I realized I loved him. I realized, I wrote 10 pages, made him read it and yet never bothered to pursue it. Tell me how I can ever deserve to get any happiness?

Yet the face. Oh the expression. The nose. The watch. The jeans. The dressing sense. I can never ever love a man with a sloppy dressing sense. He has to have his own style statement. But again, there's a contradiction. I can stare for ages at his face, but couldn't gather courage to copy the image file to my laptop or tab. Doesn't my tab have incriminating things? It has, lots of. Screenshots that say everything. But no, not a photo. A photo is not mine if it is not explicitly permitted by the other person. Like my bossie did. "Girl, you like my photo? Have all you want..."

Once upon a time I really loved Anand. No, it's important that I confess that to myself. I used to have his photo as my desktop image. He himself ruined that love. Yes it got ruined, but it couldn't get killed na. That love probably haunts me. This guy could have been him, this guy could have been our son. His posture, the white in his eyes, these things are so terribly like mine. Ah, let's not enter into a discussion on Hamlet once more. You know what D'bhai? I don't think I need anything like a time machine, a time turner or a time cruncher. All I need is a time organizer. Just one more chance to organize my life and undo few things. Oh D'bhai I am getting into an incurable depression. I am not able to help myself any more. There's no one I can approach, no shelter, not a single friend. My attempts to live tire me D'bhai, I am scared.

Oh that face, and oh the heartbreak, at not being able to do a single thing that I want to do...