Dearest ‘Sylph’,
I know I don’t have that value in your eyes, which my eyes, for you, do contain in them;
I know I don’t gain enough regards from your side, nor do I expect as much as I believe I pay.

Yet, on this birthday, I plan something different, I wish to give you the greetings, the wishes which may, though, soon be trampled by your most celestial feet, but do trace their origin in a pure, though not so divine, heart.

I wish you each and every happiness which you wish to possess, and if just enough, I wish you gain those in more folds than you expect them to, most obviously, be in.
But, yes! I won’t say you be the happiest one, and for ever, not because I envy you, but because it would be much more painful – when you get to see yourself in trouble – and I don’t really wish to see you too handicapped to be fit enough to handle your particulars.

And I wish you dreams – loads and loads – and let them all be sweet enough – quite enough to make those illusions a better part of your world – but not too sweet to make your eyes disagree to the reality of this world of artificial errors and natural perfection.
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I wish you love too – innate love – which you get to share with everyone you really care for. Love, as you must be completely aware, is the strongest bond which exists – and ever did – between any two hearts bound with the rope of grace. The ultimate feeling which breathes life, as a result of trust, faith, care, patience, belief and a lot more, is love. A mutual feeling which never lets you see yourself alone, an emotion which possesses infinite togetherness. And I wish God sprinkles enough love on you over and over again.

Moreover, I wish you something more than just silence and loneliness, I wish you peace, serenity, vitality and, if not harmful, some solitude even.

Pardon me, dear! but let me wish some pain even, so that you don’t feel any less of life ever.

Now, let the aftermath be the most happening and the most accepted. Let your birthday, thus life, be the most perfect blend of each feeling and every sense. Let there be the most impeccable proportion of every feeling – be it joy, sorrow, vexation, and be it every other thing.

Ultimately, let your birthday be the most charismatic event. Let your birthday sprinkle new life on not only you, but even on the people who belong to you – and on the ones you belong to – and on the ones whom you consider to be your own. Let “your day” be different…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY…

Yours,
Nobody.

 

  • image source: internet
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