Your Voice, My Atlas
How did this happen?
God, forgive me.
Your voice.
When you speak, I can't help but listen.
Love at first sight? No.
Love at first speech, though? Perhaps.
One minute you're Sangakkara,
the cricketer -
poised, dignified.
The next, your vowels turn you into
a bloke having a snag.
Suddenly Indian, Malaysian, somehow… British.
It shouldn’t make sense, but it does -
every place you’ve lived has left a melody in your voice,
a map my heart cannot help but follow.
And that’s just in English, mate:
an amalgamation of cultures - intriguing,
a mosaic of places - endearing.
If the world were an audio book,
your accent would be the perfect narrator.
But then your ‘Marma side’ surfaces.
I mean, you’re not old,
but your diction is ancient -
and it’s the funniest thing.
You always have a bone to pick with my generation:
first it’s this ChatGPT ruining young brains,
then you’re asking if anyone’s fallen in love.
Is that an awkward conversation?
You’re an idiot for that.
And somehow, I’m smiling.
I look at your photo, books in hand.
You’re actually the cutest, the sweetest.
I swear, all I want is to wrap my arms around you
and hear your thoughts.
And I know you have them.
You care deeply - for your people, your country.
You hold the world with a fierce compassion
most never will,
a love borrowed from deep within the Ramayana,
smiled upon by Rama and Sita themselves.
But the world I’m drawn to -
the one I’ve fallen for -
is yours.
You answer every thought, comment, word
with intention, with heart,
and that’s beautiful.
At least to me.
I remember what you said about intimacy -
if anyone is lucky enough to have it.
A piece of me broke with you that day.
You think you’re not the easiest on the eyes.
But when I look at you, I see soft, kind eyes.
And while you can’t smile for a photo to save your life,
the real thing is something special to behold.
Like your mother’s, actually.
I wish I saw it more.
And your laugh -
oh my days, your laugh.
A soft chuckle, a symphony for my heart.
Precious.
Of course you meet the lover’s criteria -
intelligent, funny, kind, caring…
I could list every virtue and mean every word,
but at the end of the day, it’s simpler than that:
when you’re me, loving you is inevitable.
Does that make any sense?
Sometimes even I don't understand it.
I just don’t know how not to love you.
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