I keep thinking about you more these days.
You’re on my mind almost every minute of the day— I’m waiting for the bus in the bus stop and I see someone cross the road in the middle of a signal, I remember you, for you had once told me while dropping me home that you had once saved a guy hit by a vehicle when he was trying to do the same.
I’m on the bus listening to a very old song and I remember you correcting my very “beautiful” lyrics which confuse people if it’s a new song with the same tune.
I’m in my apartment, trying to climb two steps at once and I remember you telling me you’d leave smoking because you weren’t able to take a flight of stairs from 2nd floor to 6th, which you were doing often while you were working out daily.
I’m going to fill my water bottle with just socks on my feet and I remember you telling me I’d better go to the kids’ section to get a pair of shoes and your beautiful laugh while asking if my shoe size is at 3 or 4.
I’m having my lunch at a marriage and I see a group of people getting up and there’s one person left behind still eating. I remember you because you were the only one that stayed till I finished.
I’m back home to the security guard smoking and meanwhile hiding his face from me slyly smiling and I remember you feeling embarrassed to say that you were going for your smoke break while I asked you if you’ll join me for tea.
I consciously walk towards the temple near my home, conscious because the other day I had bumped into you on a main road while going to the same temple.
I’m sitting in the cab and catch a glimpse of the driver’s eyes in the mirror and that reminds me of you when I tried seeing you through your stranded eyes while you were almost finishing a ten hour ride when we were out on a trip in my dream.
I’m cooking lady’s-finger curry and I remember you because you had told me about your struggle to eat the curry you had made the first time and it was all like gum, sticky and soggy.
And when the day ends and I’m off to sleep, I remember that I can only smirk remembering you because you’re someone else’s who loves you more than you do yourself, but I shall continue to remember you with one or the other memory that keeps coming back with every minute of the day. . .
Love,
Sowmya
P.S. – I love clicking fallen leaves on empty grey roads.
Life of Stories 