Me: What’s it like when you miss someone?

Me: You start talking to yourself instead.

I see you.

I see you inside me.

You’re a part of me.

And I can’t part with you.

You wash over me, consume my being.

I sit and stare

entranced by you.

You kill me and bring life to me,

You’re my demon, a blasphemy

An angel, looking over me.

The night isn’t a mystery

And the sun doesn’t mark beginnings.

I see you, you’ve hidden me

From what my heart is whispering.

You’re an enigma to me,

I welcome you.

You’re a part of me

And I can’t part with you.

It’s 11:45 at night and I’m here.

I’m writing because I’m too unsettled to do anything else.

It’s the 14th tomorrow.

We both know what that means.

11 months and counting, you ask,

Are you coming with me?

I’ll always have one thing to say.

Hell yes.

See, I’m here and you’re not

I’m here and I’m waiting.

It’s the 14th tomorrow, you ask,

Are you willing to take the leap with me?

I’ll always say,

Hell yes.

Hey, I’m not upset, I’m reminiscing

Missing you today like you must be missing

Me.

It’s the 14th tomorrow, you ask,

Will you wait for me?

And I say,

Hell yes.

Well, you’re smiling today,

Hon, hush the voices.

We mirror each other.

Hon, look at me.

It’s the 14th tomorrow, you ask,

Baby, will you be mine again?

Hear me whisper in your ear,

Hell yes.

So it’s difficult, yes.

And impossible, I know.

You’re a mess inside

And I’m no better, you know?

It’s the 14th tomorrow, you ask,

Is this what you want?

And to answer your question, I say,

Hell yes.

It had been delivered. The parcel that had been sent for me from Mumbai. My warden called for me.

“It’s going to be a surprise. Something that will remind you of me”, he had said. What could it possibly be? The excitement was different, unlike anything I had ever felt before. I ran down to my warden’s house.

It was wrapped in yellow paper and had my name on it. I took it and all but flew to my room to open it. I tore open the packet and found inside it, a shiny little pouch and a hazelnut bournville. My favourite! Hmm. Definite reminder. I opened the pouch and out came a soap box. Handmade. Soap. I was confused. Was this supposed to remind me of him? I took the soap out and saw that it had a dog carved into it! I used to call him that. My dog. I grinned to myself stupidly and  finished the entire chocolate bar. It had never tasted this good before.

See, I was this cool person in my hostel. I wasn’t mushy and I didn’t fawn over girly things. I wasn’t someone who would spin up random fantasies in her head. To maintain my image, I hid the wrappers and papers in my cupboard before anybody could see it. This could remain my secret. A lovely secret.

The soap still sits in my cupboard, used, bruised and neglected. The chocolate wrappers have lost their aroma. The yellow paper has faded. Yet, I still have it all. I’m putting down that moment in print so that the memories remain. So that I can relive the giddiness that once used to possess me. So that I’m assured day and again that perfection is possible. That unhindered happiness happens. That secretly, I too am a mushy romantic inside.

So that I’m tempted to look at that soap and smile that stupid smile again.