To Rabi

Dear Rabi,
 
Look how our life is stranger than fiction! Never thought I'd find him like this...though, have I really found him?
 
So many like me want to touch him, just a little...some have succeeded, others are still trying. Do they know too that touching him makes you light as a weaver bird's feather? Who can say!
 
Perhaps he too grows light in someone's thoughts. Perhaps he too feels elated hoping to see someone. When he closes his eyes seeking peace, his own face floats in his own mirror. I know how much peace such thoughts can bring!
 
Remember how just a message from him would fill my heart with joy! I still feel stirred, just like a girl falling in love for the first time. Reading some of his writing, I think—if you were here, perhaps you'd speak just like this. How many times I sat silently at your feet while reading him in that rocking chair where you used to rest...if only he knew!
 
I've never been to Santiniketan in person, never stood behind the table by the window where you wrote, never watched him that way either—but I know he too drowns as deep as you did! Does he too search for himself like you?
 
It's to you I secretly tell all my secret thoughts. The one whose thoughts make me forget even you, the one I call by your name despite being so different from you—I've told you everything about him. I'm telling you even more secret things now. Who knows, perhaps all this is true!
 
Well, you believe God dwells in this temple of the mind—so why do I see Him peeking around here these days? I wonder, what kind of creation is this! I think and fear that like water spilling from a full glass when your hand slips, the hymns of devotion within me might overflow! Will people exile me for atheism in this twenty-first century?
 
Let them; I've learned that exile can be quite comfortable. I've lived for centuries in a non-world thousands of light-years away—only with myself or in God's presence...
 
What I was saying—fiction draws its endings so skillfully—whether tragedy or happy ending...but the craftsman of life...whether fiction or non-fiction...is more skilled than the writers of both!
 
I feel like drawing an ending! Let me then...
 
Alright, I'm finishing; just one thing I wanted to know. Love supposedly transcends everything? Tell me, who has ever loved someone more than themselves...tell me? Then why does he transcend even me within myself these days?
 
Yours,
Someone who exists yet doesn't