It’s not about me. It’s about this guy I know.
He’s about my age and about my height, he has my face and the colour of our eyes they match in shade and the texture of our skin, is exactly the same. He walks like me but his gait is softer. And when he passes by you, you’ll want him to smile at you, and fill you with his laughter. I’ve heard him speak and he’s shy. His face contorts into funny lines you might not want to hear, so he keeps quiet. Don’t mind him, he’s just trying not to get in your way.
When he doesn’t meet your eyes, he’s really quite okay. But once you get to know him, in fact, he’s almost lovely, you just need to show him that you’ll help him build a conversation. That’s all will make him go weak in the knees and then you pretty much own him.
When he talks he talks like me, but he does it much more elegantly. He likes to use his hands while he speaks to orchestrate his spoken imagery. Did you know he writes? He like words. They’re exactly like the ones I’ve heard but even though he strings them just.
Anyway, feed him chocolate and chai and pizza, give him books to read, programs to code and movies to watch because he’s just like me, he’s just like me but still he’s not.
There is something that separates us and I’m not sure what. He’ll sing old shayaris to you at midnight, very softly over whatsapp just like I do, and just like me he’ll try to convince you after not to listen to them for a while.
See this is this guy I know, and he’ll grow on you, he’ll shower you with love that’ll glow on you and he might get on your nerves sometimes like I know I do but he’ll grow on you, I promise. He’ll grow on you. Did I mention that he writes? He likes words. He tries to woo girls with poetry and prose and though you might not think that one can flirt in metaphors he’s never flustered like me and somehow he makes it work.
Anyway, listen to old hindi songs and take him on long walks. He likes listening to you as much as he likes to talk and you can repeat your stories which is a great perk because his memory sucks and he probably would forgot anyway.
He acts like me but he’s sweeter. He won’t always tell you what’s on his mind but when he does, he’ll try his hardest not to lie even though it takes all his might to let down his guard and and show you his vulnerable side.
See, he’s a lot like me but he’s braver. Harsh words and crude comments don’t faze him at all, he draws strength, unlike me, from failure. He’s a lot like me but when faced with the scissor; he’s a lot more like rock and I’m a lot more like paper. There is this guy I know and we’re exactly the same. From the height of our body to the length of our names and I have to admit this even though I’m ashamed but I think it’s because I’m to blame.
He’s the better version even though he’s a lot like me and I think that’s because he’s not what I see. I think that maybe if I stepped out of my shoes and I looked at his objectively maybe, I’d call him awesome because maybe, he is.
Credits : Rabia Kapoor