You’re the drop of rain that falls on the forehead of a tired old farmer. You’re the bud that blooms beside a dying flower in the garden of a sad little girl. You’re a day well spent, a smile well captured, a laughter well echoed on the faces of others. You’re the cold water on a hot day, a warm cappuccino on a cold one. You’re the pillow that comforts a hard life. You’re the extra chocolate syrup on my Mochachilo, the extra chocolate chips on my Nescafe-muffin, the extra happiness in my life. You’re the cloud that joins the other clouds to make the image of a Titanic. When, after sometime, the Titanic splits and I frown, you’re the one, who sneaks out and forms the other ear of a Mickey Mouse to make me smile again. You’re the bitter gourd I’d swallow with water. You’re the orange shirt I’d wear in front of my crush. You’re the six-inch high stiletto I’d wear on a beach if I had to. You’re the shit I’d never flush, the pencil shaves I’d never throw, the make-up I’d disguise myself forever. You’re the flaw I’d give up perfection for. When it is dark all around and there’s nothing that I can see, you’re the arms I’d surrender myself to. When the Sun shines bright, so much so that I can’t see, you’re the pole on the street that shades me. And when it’s any other random day and I am not wearing my spectacles so I can’t see (again), you’re the 8MP camera of my phone that I’d zoom in to get a better view of that tall girl’s little blue dress. You make ‘Love’ seem underrated. You’re the left turn that seems right. You’re the path. You’re the journey. You, are the destination.