"I love the view of sunset. The skin on my skeleton likes to feel the warmth of it. The first thing I like to see is the sight of birds sitting on a mahogany tree just outside my window. They love to wake me up on Sunday mornings. Their chirping is an alarm to my ears. I love the sound that the leaves of a tree make when it's windy. I like to sit on the terrace in the evening when it's about to rain and feel the air rushing against my body, when it tries to push my hair to the other side. I love the fragrance of soil after it rains, petrichor is what it's called, isn't it?
I love to go to the Iskon temple, to be fortunate to experience the celebration of the sacrament of the temple. I love to go to the gurudwara and splash my feet in water just before entering the sacred place. I like the texture of the kada prasad when I pray to God before relishing its flavour. Goodness, it's delicious! I quite enjoy the process of painting, not knowing what 'masterpiece' I'm working on, yet adoring the feeling of paper against my fingers. The bells of all the temples in the evening and the contrary tranquility in the mornings. It's amazing how quiet this city can get.
And what about her, you asked? I love the sound of her laughter, Ayaan. I love how her hair touches my face when she looks to the opposite side. I love to hear, I love to feel, I love to smell Ayaan, because I can't see.
He could describe almost anything more heavenly than a person with sight could. A boy who has never seen anything with his own eyes, talks about everything. Things which are so miniscule, yet enchanting. There are so many colours in the world, every colour adding a different meaning to a sight, to a vision. But he could see only black, and no other. Well, isn't it said that the most beautiful things cannot be seen or even touched, they must be felt by the heart? He did have a heart as deep as the ocean, didn't he?