DARKCircles.

And those dark circles under your scarlet eyes, to me are the most beautiful part of yours.
Like clouds of sorrow, surviving through storms; they tell your stories, only to those who look that deep into your soul. They serve as a reminder of how you my friend, are a soldier. The one, who faught against all odds of life.
I know those nights he came in, you'd pretend to be fast asleep, and how he'd thrust his arm in your blanket, just to take it all out on you- his failures and miseries. I know those nights you'd run to your world's best lady, cuddling and sobbing against her chest, as she'd try to cease your cries fighting against her own.
I know how your kin would often come to your rescue and you'd feel like hugging him and telling him that he's the world's greatest brother, but never would. I know.
I know how your tee-shirt, the one you tend to slip into at nights, still smells of dried tears, reminiscent of how most of your nights you'd flood your pillow with your angst and hurt.
I know you'd often think to yourself that you should quit, only to be reminded of how hard it'd be for your only lady. I know.
And slipping back into that blanket, with your eyes still wide open, you'd stare into the eternal black outside the room, all night long. I know.
And I know how the mornings would often begin with apologies from your father, his breaths still smelling of the whiskey he had last night, and your pretending to have felt no hurt, having suffered nothing at all. And then it'd all repeat itself.
I know you're tired of this monotonous routine and have found an escape in the outside world, at least that's what you pretend. I know.
And I know for a fact how that bothers you each day, each hour, each passing second,  while you still show the world not a thing. Not how terribly broke your insides are, how bruised your heart is, how there is an ever growing emptiness that kills you each moment. I know.
Then by evening, as you reach back for your place, I know you wish each day that you could run back, anywhere ,but only for your mother, would you put that befooling smile on, and walk past the porche, into the front hall and go hug her. Just to realise she'd been waiting there all day, because you are all she's living for. I know
And if you ask me, those dark circles of yours, aren't dark at all.

Teachers.

In the anonymity of life, the blurriness of hopes and shadowed desires, there are people who bump into your lives as some saviours. People who make the haziness disappear and let the sunshine pass through so that our lives start to glow.
They teach us that no problem can ever be big enough to make you lose your all. They're there to guide you, when your own shadows shy away from you. They help you put off all your troubles aside and  bring in joy.
No matter how colossal a wreck you think your life is, even if you feel drained of your all, like there's nothing left of your own, they'll be there to help you rise back up, from ground zero. And with their mere presence, you'll know it'll all be fine.
They're your rays of hope when the clouds of misery surround you. Tearing through those clouds, they come and save your soul.
Some friends are more than just friends, they're teachers. Rather, a perfect conglomeration of both. And this is for you.
Because no other teacher, sir has been able to bring out my best. Thank you.