4 years later...

The only thing that was missing was music. Trying to relate lyrics to what the eyes were feasting upon. But the wind sang. The wind sang the melancholy, and the happiness, oscillating, perfect for the situation. And the eyes took in every detail, like this time, this very last time, they wanted to make an imprint in the mind. The kind of imprint that time cant steal for itself...the kind that wouldn't fade until memory has a chance to refresh itself...

So the pair of them stared into the open. At the kids playing cricket, at the small lane of concrete road that I always wanted to walk through. The lane with huts on either side. At the trees that adorned themselves with tendrils. Yes, of course, it is May. There should be tendrils. At the sun, playing hide and seek with the eyes. Hiding successfully behind buildings, unsuccessfully behind trees. Blinding the eyes. At rows and rows of white buildings. At the mini-lake, that always looked so full of reflections, of trees, of bill-boards, of clouds. At the bus, standing a little too close in the traffic. So close, that i could hear her telling me to come out of my trance and push my hair behind my ears, like she always did. Always, when my hair was on my face. At the way the buses parted ways, as if to signify a deeper 'parting of ways'. At the mango tree, so full of mangoes hanging from every branch. I'd have loved to jump out n pluck a few. I could see myself doing it, but just inside my head. At the bridge, and the red-brick house from the bridge. The red-brick house of happy memories. At the smoke all over the place, almost making it seem like the red-brick house was floating in the heavens, as if it were not enough that it was indeed heaven on earth. At Chennai's smoothest road, and the endless string of restaurants lining it on either side, none of which I have ever visited. At the marsh, when there was a breakdown, when she hilariously imitated the way i sleep, inviting undying laughter. Yes, it was always something they laughed about. At the beautifully canopied road, where i always wanted to take a long walk with someone whose company i enjoyed. At the crowd outside the theatre, and the chips shop that always made my stomach growl...endless...

My last bus-ride home. From a college i spent 4 years in. Hard to believe! The things that i'm going to miss really haven't seeped through fully...they kind of did, when i sat on the verandah with my book open, doing everything but study. Chatting away to glory about the latest movies, class gossip, the extent of yuckiness of the subject, about lip balm and haircuts, dirty shoes and un-ironed dupattas, about marriage, and life as such. It did seep into me, that i was going to miss such talks and so much fun, so much laughter. Hell, we'll deal with it later :)

"4 years later..."ly
Signing off...