Navyashree Emani

“An artwork caught our eye, and the conversation discussed the mischievous history of something that seemed so politely packaged. Quite like her, a wine that offers a tingle, mischief in a stately gown. The tip of the iceberg, inviting a conversation, layers revealed if the chords are struck right. Chilly ocean for the uninitiated, a hot water spring for one who hums along. And we discussed peaches. The appealing softness, just so warm in every light, the definite cheekiness and the desirable texture – a hint of what’s in store. A peach is intense, an acquired taste for those who seek sugar, sheer satiation for those who lick the sweetness dry.” – The Pink Peach

“Teach me what it feels like to fly high, without a care of the world. Teach me what it is like to pick the reds from the yellows, and how to roll in the bloody blues blooming in the green. I know you swim and I know you run. I know you have the skill to kill time, can I quote Lorde and kill it with you?” – Rolling in the Bloody Blues

“What are you doing?”
“I’m buying a watermelon.”
“Because you said you like watermelon.”
The Celebratory Hangover

“Mine has always been a frenzied expression of affection, served in hot little shots on a rainy afternoon, served in abundance, carrying a slight bitter aftertaste, just enough to keep the eyes open. Sugar gets monotonous, and absence of obvious sweetness opens up the possibilities. Love is an acquired taste, impatient or not.” – Impatience Served in Shots

Navyashree Emani. Stubborn, sharp tongued yet tender. Composed, yet a goofy prankster. A world of contradictions bottled up. Quite an adventure to tame, for it is a mutual endeavour, she tames you too. We were first introduced in a work environment, and had a fiery little stint as colleagues. Me being a strong headed task master, and her being an equally strong headed learner.

She met me during a state of transit, as I journeyed from a workaholic nature to that of truly living off the rewards. She joined me in exploring the balance between our base instincts and wiser counsel. What we have together is a potent espresso, she has been the high that helped me crack open my own shells, go through an implosive collapse through self realisations and form up my own again. At some level, she has gone through something similar as we held on together and grew a few years in a matter of months.

It is unfathomable and incomprehensible what we continue to nurture. It is an unspoken understanding of what we are made of, and what we know of each other. It is the naked truth, complete with fault lines and utter bliss, with laughter and confused screams. As we forge ahead building our own paths, we keep glancing over our shoulders at each other, attempting to make better sense of what makes us what we are.

I love her for being so starkly comfortable with unease. It is akin to falling fast asleep in a freezing room, wrapped in my blanket. It is akin to nodding to a song you do not know the meaning of. Her magnificent self has distinct faith in the world around, one she has stitched together and holds so dear. Her belief system is simple in its essence, like an easy morning, a wet one in June. It is endearing to the core.

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