21 oh eight

there are many men who're handsome. there are several actors who are stupendous at acting. there are those moments when a man on the screen takes your breath away and you get sort of stuck. yet the exact set of emotions you make me feel, it's somehow not all of that. there's something here that goes beyond looks, talent, presence... and please there's no question of calling it that fairly lame and ugly word, x-factor. you walked into my evening on an awful tv serial. your hair messy and fluffed up, your clothes loose, your gait awkward, your acting far from polished. but something registered. almost instantly. there's something about him, i heard myself think. and i was not wrong.

there are so many memories of you in my mind, pictures flash before my eyes, sensations drizzle across my shin, or shoulder, or some other innocuous spot which really is not associated with sensuality in any way, for example, upper arms. really?

there, you're looking a certain way at that word. and i'm grinning, thinking, let me go find that scene. 

while looking for shots to get that birthday edit, i hyperventilated. i missed you. i wondered if your world is changing in some significant way soon. i wished i could see you as a new character; what would your name be i wondered. you smiled from a shot at me, you winked there, you turned back and raised an eyebrow, you yelled, you walked slowly up to me, and then you struck a delhi hep guy pose. ha, stay that last one always.

have a great bday, the boy who makes my friends laugh at me, but i don't care, koi faraq nahin padta, d'you understand?









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