''One who bestows courage
and happiness'', I read
And smiled because
I almost didn't need to look
up the meaning
of my best friend's name
to know it by heart, he's
been gifting me courage
even before I loved him—
''Be yourself, be true''.
And the happiness climbed
creeper-like into my heart
as I felt my way through the
twilight of trying to
understand him,
With no effort on his part.
And he's ripe for exploration—
an enchanted forest, sunlit,
That contradicts the november
chill that descends in the
month he is also named for—
"The holiest one", say the sages,
and I feel no surprise.
There's something sacred about
his transparence, something
spare in a beautiful way,
Like unadorned verses
shattering rainbow-like
against my lips, yes,
He's magic, and I want him
never to forget my name, because
I can't forget his, I can't think
of anyone else when I hear it;
"Kartik" is a spell I long
to learn and re-learn,
backwards and forwards, a
simple litany that melts
iron-grey skies into soft azure,
and misery to fervent
gratitude.