The Stranger I Like (1.8)

Immortalise

- Ensured lasting remembrance

"Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet, or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist’s muse, they’ll immortalise you."

Just came across these lines in a reel and couldn’t resist sharing it with him. And asked, "Kya aap immortal banna pasand karenge?"

To which, he replied, "Beshaq🎀."

It wasn’t a reply I had expected. There were so many ways he could have responded, but this was his answer. And now, I can’t stop thinking about it. Was it a simple response, or did it mean something more? I know he isn’t ready for these things right now, but does it hint at the future? Or maybe it doesn’t mean anything personal to me at all.

What if he imagines being immortalised by a painter or someone else? I’m just a writer and poet. What if he wants to be remembered through someone else’s art? I can’t assume this was for me. He needs to define it more clearly for me to believe it.

Sometimes, I get so confused by the reels he shares. Does he want me to keep my distance because he isn’t ready for the bond I hope for? Or is he silently encouraging me to get closer? Maybe he doesn’t even care about these things. But one thing I know for sure—he doesn’t find me irritating. A busy person like him wouldn’t spend his time enduring someone who bothers him.

Even so, I leave it all to Madhav. I trust Him, and I know whatever happens will be for the best. But deep down, I wish for at least one moment with him in this lifetime. I don’t want to stay just an online friend. I want to meet him, touch his dimples, and look into those brown eyes I love so much. I want to see him blush and catch that moment for myself.

One day, I was overthinking everything about us. I sat blankly, letting my thoughts spiral, and I ended up crying. I cried because I felt guilty. I had told him I wanted only friendship, but now, I had started feeling more.

I cried because, in my mind, I had imagined so many beautiful moments with him—walking together under the stars, holding hands, sharing quiet conversations, and all those romantic scenes usually one could have. I felt happy thinking about these moments, but the reality that they might never happen hurt me.

I wondered, was it right for me to think this way? Was I being unfair to him and to myself? I didn’t have an answer.

But one thing I know is that I want to write for him. Even if we never end up together, I’ll keep these feelings alive in my words. Someday, if his kids read my poems and stories, they’ll ask him, "Papa, was this writer really so much into you? You’re lucky."

It’s not easy to feel this way. When feelings are mutual, it’s simple and open. But when it’s one-sided, you have to be careful. You can’t cross boundaries or be overly expressive. You have to guard your emotions to make sure the bond stays intact.

That evening, after crying, I tried to cheer myself up by looking at his pictures. As I scrolled through my gallery, I started smiling again. But just as I began to blush, my dad walked into the room. In a panic, my phone slipped from my hands.

“What happened? Why do you look so startled?” he asked.

“Nothing, I was just reading a book online,” I replied quickly, trying to act normal.

“What’s the name of the book?” he asked with a curious smile. “It must be something special to make you blush like this.”

I froze, not knowing what to say. Just then, my brother stepped in and saved me by distracting Dad with talk about going out to buy stationery.

Once they left, I laughed at myself and returned to his picture. This time, I zoomed in, admiring every detail—his dimples, his lips, and even his neck. I told myself it’s okay to imagine these things. It’s my mind, my story, and I can create whatever moments I want.

Even if nothing comes of these feelings, I’ll hold onto them. If he never understands them, Madhav will. And I believe no emotion is ever wasted when it’s given to Madhav.

That thought is enough for me. For now.