My Men

Love isn't a word to define the divine connection between perceptible souls, but a term to name every endearment existent on the core of the earth. It ranges within every link, every creation whether known or not. Two figures have profoundly influenced my life despite not being apparent to the outside world. They breathe in my pages. The ink-stained sheets are their beloved birthplace where they culminate into the most appealing beings from scratches of my nibs. The bareness of their lustrous spirit combined with their physical assets names them 'That Man'.

They are divine, yet flawed. They are diligent, yet resilient. They are kind, yet indomitable. They are beautiful, yet blighted. Their kismets—tarnished. Their breaths—limited. Their moments—short-spanned.

They were those rare stars who left the clusters to grace the mortal realm. But, the celestials became helpless without their timeless sheen. So, the constellations requisited them.

They are those gifted creatures to whom time was miserly gifted.

Eventually, these unaging angels shrivel and sulk off ashen for which one line fits the best: "Your beauty never ever scared me, Mary on a, Mary on a cross."

Yusuf, you have always been Young & Beautiful for someone who breathed his last at barely 33. You never got to age, never got to bear with wrinkles marking decades, never got to see greys in your hair. You passed away ravishing, flaring and shining, baring your true potential and gentle soul lastly, always overcast by your flawless radiance. Because people hailed Rajan Saxena, not Yusuf Khan Dehlavi. They admired the first sex symbol of India, not the kind essence of Yusuf. They saw the glamour, not the cost. You were free from countless banes except one—the deadliest of them all. Melded with an alluring facade and pathetic consequence, your demise is an engrave on my heart—beautiful yet tragic, like Summertime Sadness. Such an immaculate soul as you didn't deserve to wither with age in this rigid world. No matter how many millions rever you, I'll be your first admirer, your mother, your lover, your poet.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Herman, your courage is enough alone to dazzle someone more than your physical beauty. The diligence of your soul, mixed with humane strength is what the world needs, humankind needs. Your sacrifices inscribe 'Humanity is the initial faith of mankind'. No religion, no synthetic identity determines our true masks. You were born to love, but made to battle. You were to unleash the warmth stored in heart, but forced to repel the evil. When the time came for love, it was too late. Your heart gave up. You had to say Yes to Heaven. Your outer roughness matches an unquintessential beauty melded with misfortune. Your face was like a child of pale moonlight and the afresh scent of mud after a lenient rain. You are the core of my aspiration, the vigour of my esteem. In your ocean eyes, I lost myself in allure and plight, letting the worldly Skyfall.

Let the sky fall,

When it crumbles.

We will stand tall.

Face it up together

At Skyfall

Beloved Readers,

The books you are holding right now are the cultivations of my agony, bliss, vehemence, solitude and black-and-white soul. What is an alignment of words to you, means a world to me. They are me. I plucked the blades thrust into my heart, and scraped its bloodied tip to piece together my fantasies, and these men form half of those envisages. So, handle them with care and kindness. They belong to you as you accompany them on their journey. Don't be like the cruel reality that shredded these souls irreparably. In their sheer lifetime, please give them the love and embrace they need. They were Born to Die, but also to live for you all. 

Let the coming year be ours, with a restored reality and renewed spirit.

Yours sincerely,

Luna

Think I'll miss you forever
Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky
Later's better than never
Even if you're gone, I'm gonna drive (drive), drive