Did You Ever Love Me? by Rithvik Singh is a tender contemporary poetry collection about love, heartbreak, longing, self worth and learning to let go. Its greatest strength is emotional accessibility: Singh writes directly to readers who feel intensely and care deeply. The collection offers comfort without pretending heartbreak is simple, though its simplicity may occasionally feel familiar to seasoned poetry readers. Did you Ever Love Me? Have you ever loved someone so completely that, after they left, you were left wondering whether they had ever understood what they had been given? Not merely whether they loved you, but whether they ever noticed how much you loved them, how much patience you offered, how many small things you remembered, or how often you chose to stay when leaving might have been easier. There is a particular loneliness in that question because it rarely arrives at a dramatic moment. More often, it finds you while you are doing something completely ordinary. Yo...
Summary
In this excerpt from his diary, Tushar Mangl opens up about his journey through the pain of his past, his struggles with destiny, and his yearning for meaning. Through raw, introspective reflections, he examines his life, recalling his early dislike for writing and his newfound curiosity about literature. Mangl’s candid insights reveal a soul grappling with profound existential questions.
24/08/2006
What should I write today? There are so many feelings I need to discuss and review, but I can’t seem to draw the strength. One fine day, I would like to look back and recall these 19 years of life. I feel like an unlucky person, at least in my own eyes. When I look back, my eyes fill with tears. No, that wasn’t the childhood I deserved. If I have to blame anyone, it’s destiny—filled with misery, sadness, and loneliness. My life feels more like a punishment. Each day I live, I end up wishing for a quick death. The past has never been good, the present holds nothing, and the future seems dark and distant.
I suppose that is why I’m writing these lines, knowing very well that no one will ever be interested in reading them. Still, my hands keep moving, almost automatically, as if they’re interpreting my thoughts. It’s 1:10 a.m. right now, and though it’s time to sleep, I don’t want to; sleep doesn’t come easily.
Sometimes, I remember the saying, “Nobody dies a virgin because life f*cks everyone.” It resonates with me. When I was younger, I hated writing. Even today, I find it difficult to write during exams. I’d compromise on marks rather than write long answers. Even if I knew the whole answer, I’d shorten it because I found long answers boring. It’s still the same today, and I wonder why I’m even writing these lines.
Since I was young, I knew I could be a voracious reader, but as a writer? Never. Life truly is full of irony. Recently, I read Mario Puzo’s The Godfather and found it interesting. The book could have been better written, but the plot intrigued me. I have a strong interest in the power game, though I don’t think I could ever win against my own destiny. Good night.
Tushar
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