It hurts. It hurts so damn much. I saw your lifeless body. Damn me! But you never said I can’t. I tried. I tried so damn much. But I saw only myself. Tired, exhausted, lost, fatigued, peaceful. Wake up. Open your eyes and I could go on pretending again, I don’t know you, Manav. You were love. I grew up watching you. The sky is full of stars and you are no where. You said till the sky is full of the stars you would be there but you lied. You didn’t tell. You were cornered. I didn’t care. You were hurting. Now, I am hurting. Its been three days and my headache won’t stop. Each time, I go to eat, I remember you would never eat again. I broke down in front of my mother. Might be the first time I cried in front of my mother. I cant help it. You were not just a person on the screen. You were me. Full of life, full of dreams. I am opening my book and I close it. What should I do so I never meet those people? What should I do so no more dreams are crushed? I can’t believe yet. Four suicides aren’t coincidence but I cant neglect your situation. You were hurting. You took your life or someone else did it. I don’t care. I just want to tell you, you weren’t you. You were we. You were kind and compassionate. You were full of sympathy and empathy. Oh, how much I hate myself for not telling you how much I loved you. If I had told you I love you each day, would it had made a difference? Would you have been here? Among us. Curse me! I didn’t even know you lived so close to my house. I didn’t even know I walked those streets each day. How many of such lives I walk out of everyday and live in ignorance. You are one against the million, you know that, don’t you? I don’t even know what should I do now? In this world of hatred and violence, should I extend a hand of love and compassion? But how? How should I tell somebody you aren’t alone? I will love you, believe in you, walk along you and fight for you. How should I let anybody know? Why didn’t anybody teach me? Why did everybody embraced me when I laughed and bullied me when I cried? Why did everybody gave attention when I was angry and frustrated when I was sulking? Why I was a coward when I was sweet and brave when I fought? How do I tell someone embrace me even when I cry, give me attention even if I sulk, pat my back even if I am sweet? If you did, I will still be your brave, worthy, son or brother or husband. Don’t take care of my food or clothes or my room, take care of me. Tell me, it’s okay to lose. Its okay to back down. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel. Tell us, it’s okay to live. It’s okay to breathe.

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