Ani

This is to:
Bacterial Growth curves and every Lassaign’s test messed and the fireworks and swears.
To the broken funnel, to the rusted cabinet lock, to bunked Physics classes, to cheap ice-creams, shared tiffins, and dhosas and papri-chaats, and to drowsy Pass classes, the Girl’s Common Room, bus rides, borrowed money, and the summers and winters of one semester lived.
This is, also to, long walks along brick roads, and around the college tracks and frantic complains and deepest secrets shared in intense conversations; advices given, and taken.
Or, to the little bit of me you have in you, and the little bit of you, I have in me...

One of my closest friends from college has finally found love. One of such rare kinds, that lasts, and blossoms, and is lost and found, and killed and resurrected, time to time.
And so, there's this sudden flood of happiness somewhere, for her, for them, and mostly for Love:
Thanks for being.