Dear friend of my heart,
It is not with words imploring forgiveness of your kind heart that I shall greet you after this long absence, for I do not believe absence to be a crime. Is it not true that love is made of absence more than anything else? Upon absence and loss is love predicated, I earnestly feel. Loss, an extension of absence is some ways, and a completely different invocation of not being there in other ways. I knew that I loved you so dearly when I listened to your heart beat and was terribly afraid. So fragile. Here a moment, gone another. It is when I feel the weight of your absence in your attendance that I become aware of you, and your gravity. Are you there? Are you listening? I greet you with a simple embrace, and a smile that decorates me. An ornament dedicated to my deep feelings for you. How beautiful that you are listening to me. How beautiful that my words matter to you, dear friend of my heart.
Sometimes I am left feeling the unsaid when it has all been said… and there is silence, an opportunity for the vapors to rise and surround us… an opportunity to savor the taste of our confluence, the sensation of our conversation… an opportunity to breathe in the tenderness of our absence. You perhaps did not know of it till the moment I came back to you, an old friend, here to greet an old friend.
There are many stories that I want to tell you, but right now I will show you things I have been seeing. There will be more opportunities for me to tell you how I felt so many feelings, how I sang with the oncoming spring, how I welcomed the warming summer…
There were times when I became aware how much I love looking at the small things around me and negotiating pictures. Here are a few.


















The pictures remind me how seasons have changed since we last met.
The night is quiet here. I am soon going to celebrate a dinner.Ā hope you are well, dear friend of my heart.
Eager to hear from you, as always.
much love,
Prashant

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