The Lost Melody

To love so carefully, for no reason at all, and
to keep someone as the most important person in your life, always—
finding someone like this is truly difficult.
For me, even more so.

The pain of losing Shaibal—I hadn't felt it as much before,
but as days have passed, I've felt it more and more deeply.
And that's why I love looking at the sky so much.
At night, lying alone in my room, I love it even more.
Truly, what a beautiful sky is mine!
In this small life, only the sky is personal,
only that remains in the end, everything else is lost one by one.
You can stare at the same sky for hours with unblinking eyes,
you can dream of living by holding onto that one sky.

Whenever I brood over the past and feel sad,
my friend says... look, someone will come into your life
who will love you even more than Shaibal did.
Will love you so much, will guard you with such care
that you'll forget all kinds of pain.

I couldn't make him understand—that's not possible.
Shaibal will never return through anyone else.
That I could be loved so much—
except for Shaibal, it never occurred to anyone else even now!
People are very selfish. So much so that they hesitate to love
without any conditions, without interest, without reason!
Truly a strange creature, this human being!

I myself am quite selfish too.
Everyone is selfish in some way or another.
Becoming selfless is not easy at all.
Most importantly, each person is different from the next.
What I've lost, I'll never get back again,
accepting this would make living easier.
What's lost is lost forever!
In this life, you simply cannot find something
that, once found, would make you completely forget
the pain of any past loss.
The melody that's once lost from life—
even with the arrival of some new, magnificent melody,
the empty space of that past melody is never truly filled.
This uniqueness of melody is what makes melody melody,
otherwise it would become mere noise.

These days I don't enjoy writing anymore.
When all interests and truths come before your eyes one by one,
I no longer feel like writing.
I don't enjoy writing anything to anyone now.
I don't enjoy writing for anyone either.
When Shaibal disappeared from my life, he proved
that Shaibals are born only once in this world.