In Memory, Of All Those Memories

"Don't forget you love me, today" -Schuyler Fisk, Fall Apart Today

One day we'll both be gone. One day I'll leave this Earth. If I'm lucky, I'll leave behind a lot of memories, and a lot of money.

But for you and me, we're already gone. Even though, if we spoke in terms of distance(which I cannot) we're not too far away. Yet for all intents and purposes, we're gone.

Don't forget the way I made the skies move. Remember how, in the patch of sky above your head, I made the skies shine a little brighter? Never forget that. Don't forget that I made rainbows come alive. Don't forget how I taught you the secret language of dogs. And how to clean up poo. Don't forget how I made the rain special. And when I spoke, I really made you listen.

Someday when you're just sitting, alone, think of how I stuck a pencil in my hair to keep it off my face. When you go for a walk, in the middle of the night, think of how I loved smoking in the cold. And how much I loved the empty, dark roads.

Don't forget that lane, the one I was convinced was haunted. Don't forget the time I made you climb up on an iron gate, just so I could take a picture. Don't forget how I always had this competitive streak, that pushed me to be better than everyone I knew.

Don't forget that when I cry, my nose turns red. And when I laugh, my nose crinkles. Just the right amount.
Don't forget the way I pulled away the first time you hugged me. Or the way I looked when we first kissed. Don't forget that first date that was all it could be. Don't forget the cold winter mornings, and the cigarettes.
When you walk on the beach, take your shoes off and feel the sand between your toes. Remember how I thought that was the best way to enjoy the beach

. Chat with your cigarette wala. Ask him how his daughter is, and if she graduated. Remember how I always did it, and the smile on his face, coz someone cared. Make people smile for the heck of it. Walk down the street, with a smile on your face. Its okay if some people think you're crazy. A lot won't.

Don't forget the way I believed the best of everyone. If you never forget, you'll never get cynical. Don't remember our end. Always remember how it was. It'll keep you happy. Don't get conned by the bad ones, but always give the benefit of doubt. Remember, it was the one thing I did best.

Don't forget you loved me. Ever.
Fall in love again. Make memories, better than ours with her.
But never forget you loved me. 

That Long-Lost Someone

"Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you. For it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts, because you can't have the one you want."- Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

She was grumpy. She kept looking up at the sky and muttering. In her head, she kept thinking, 'Why can you never see the stars in the city?' Its a cold winter night. She shoves her icy fingers out of her pullover, and with slightly shaking hands, lights her cigarette.

Her mind, when not obsessing about the presence, or lack thereof, of the stars, was on him. Off late, he was all she thought about. A glance through an old journal, while clearing out her book cupboard, had brought all those memories rushing back. The first time she'd seen him. And then the last. Strange that at the time, it hadn't seemed so momentous. She hadn't realized they'd never meet again. At 15, it hadn't seemed important. The last conversation they'd had, was why the Bluetooth on his phone was't working right. If she'd known, would she have done or said anything different? She doubted it.

Now, twelve years later, she felt her perfect life come apart at the seams. She was getting engaged in a month. Her parent's had approved the son of an old family friend. Since he was smart, good looking, and had a great job, she could think of no objections to raise. Except..

Where was he? What was he doing? Had his life turned out okay? Would she ever see him? Should she send him a wedding invite? Would he somehow, declare undying love for her, before she married another man?

She needed to know. He had been the one person, who had made her feel special. She'd trusted his instincts, changing the writing that was her passion, into a career choice. And she had no regrets. 

Seven years ago, they'd finally lost touch. After attempting to hold onto a friendship, that had always been tenuous at best, they'd given up. She had changed cities, and her number.

And now, years later, he was back in her thoughts. She had no idea where he was, and even if she did, the thought of contacting him again, never crossed her mind. She was happy with the man her parents had chosen for her. Venkat Ramalingam was a nice man, who took pains to get reservations at her favorite table, in her favorite restaurant. And if he failed to twist her insides whenever she saw him, it was not a real loss surely.

After all, hadn't she craved a peaceful, calm and rational relationship? What had she gotten out of being with him anyway? Hadn't she claimed she no longer wanted the fire, and the emotional upheaval, that had marked her relationship with him? Surely rational, safe, boring Venkat was her ticket to a perfect life.

She walked back home to dress for her dinner date with Venkat, firmly telling herself it was simply nostalgia.

Then why was it that he was constantly on her mind? Why when she had picked out her engagement lehenga, she picked one in blue, his favorite color? Why did she lock herself up, reading and re-reading that old journal? And why, all these years later, did she catch herself wondering, if he was married.

He'd claimed he wouldn't. He'd been too career oriented, too focused on work, to spare marriage more than a passing thought. However, he'd always wanted a daughter. Maybe that is why, whenever she thought of being a mother off late, she pictured them with his eyes. Her smile though. Always her smile.

It hurt. She didn't have it in her to think, that if she were only to contact him again, it would be okay. It wasn't what she wanted. Somehow the reality of him, was never as perfect as her memories. But the loss hurt. 

As she brushed out her waist-length hair, waiting for Venkat to pick her up for dinner, she wondered if he looked any different. Had he put on weight? Or was he still awkward and lanky? Did he have a girlfriend?

The door bell rings. It's Venkat. He has in his hand, a book by her favorite author. She has to give his points for trying. Its not his fault, paavam, that she's read every single book by that author, not to mention knows entire sections by heart. Still, it irks her. He knew her favorite authors, discussed books, and their characters with her all the time. Surely Venkat should too?

As she picks up her stole, and walks out the house, a random thought flits through her mind.

I hope he names his daughter after me.

"The Wound Is The Place Where The Light Enters You"- Rumi

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times. If one only remembers, to turn on the light."- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

It took the first shower of Mumbai rains, to show me what I've been searching for since my break up.

I kept hurting, feeling like I'd never heal. I felt needy, and I hated it. I would stay home and read all day. And meet Isha in the evening, for that mandatory evening smoke. I looked forward to this part of my day. Somehow I felt that all that loneliness would somehow disappear if I wasn't alone with my thoughts.
It felt like stale grey smoke in me. Like all I needed to do was exhale and it would be gone. But I never managed to exhale. It just wouldn't go away. No matter how hard I tried.

And then it rained. Heavily. First shower. I was home. I couldn't stop myself, I got dressed, and went out for a smoke.

I went to that windy place. It's this place near home, where no matter the weather, it's always windy, and there's this great chai wala.
And there, in the rain, with my chai and my cigarette, I felt that grey polluted smoke leave me. It felt like it whooshed out.

That's when I knew:

No one else was going to heal me. That would have to be me. And I didn't know it, but my own company worked wonders on me. I'd never felt so happy. Since the end of a rapidly deteriorating relationship I'd presumed I'd never feel okay alone. And that day I just was. I was fine. Smiling at nothing in particular, and enjoying the rain, despite the mud splattering over the back of my jeans.

It took one solitary evening, to make me whole again.
Next time, I will love a little bigger, and a little better.