Thunderstorms and I have an old relationship. The first one I saw was when I was 2. I cried. But I also sat down on the floor and watched the sky ablaze with light every 3 or 4 minutes with my mother. I loved the way it sounded.
Like a heart thump. Like crackling of fire. Like a jolt down my spine.
And then came rain. Don't even get me started on rain. That's a story of a different day.
But right now, thunder.
Maybe I got too carried away with how your eyes felt like that thunderbolt I saw when I was 2. Because all I wanted to do was sit there, cross-legged for no matter how long and find the mystery that held in them. The way they followed me on that 1st November night when you looked at me like as if you have catched me red-handed and you have loved it. They were so deep I could drown and I could suffocate but I would have loved falling.
I loved to have found you. You had loved to be found
You showed up uninvited. You show up uninvited as you guide my hands to write this even now.
And three years is not a long time to me, they're a transition. They're an experiment on how long can I live by until that one day when I can say your name without pausing one second before saying it. When the blood in my veins will run smooth and not ignite every star in my sky.
Never my intention, no. I don't always think about you, but each time my mind wanders it leads back to your name and how it sounds different to me. Reminds me of the way you saud my name, like music to ears. Like you were proud of me. Like you wanted to say my name just for the sake of saying it.
I'll write about you forever. You're fun to write about. And I hate the way I love you. But I have been making progress with the phases of my heart.
Today there was lightening, there was rain and there were strong winds. And I was close to that one building where magic happens. Like a safe haven.
Today when I travelled towards the building that caged our hearts, I did not think of us. I did not think of your smiles when we crossed paths. I did not think of how you made your hair and fixed your scarf before coming to talk near the Tennis Table. I did not think of how you turned around to see if I saw how that sir just playfully hit you in front of the office.
Today, that building reminded me of a strange guy who smiled through the back of the door when he looked at me dressed in black, and I looked the other way pretending I didn't see him. Today it reminded me of how I asked him to sign my placard even though my dad was waiting for me to pick me up outside. It reminded me of his cute childish evil smile. He was not you. I was his first love. And I pray for him a lot. My heart stops when I think about him. I hope he's at peace.
Today that building reminded me of the last time, when the world that we carved in sand stone ended with our footprints vanished because of a strong breeze.
Today that building did not remind me of that place where you used to park your bike, and that one day when you just sat there alone and looked into the empty space in front of you. I saw you from the window of my class and I prayed for you. I hoped that you come inside soon because it was cold.
Today it reminded me of two girls. Two girls I gave my heart to. One was a little too much too handle and the other handled us all. I came in the middle I guess. A mixture of both. It reminded me of how I rested my head on one's lap while the other sang as we saw the guys play basketball. It reminded me of the canteens fries. God damn those canteen fries.
Today it reminded me of how this too shall pass. Of how miracles are bound to happen and how they are never meant to last. That this is how they remain special.
And now as I am writing there are a billion memoirs attached and a thousand of thoughts that I can't let the world know. I can't let this world know.
Maybe you thought about me today too. Because when I was driving back to home, lightening stricked too loud and I saw your face.
The road was empty so I didn't move the car for two minutes.
I waited for Everglow to end.
And I smiled.
Because I know, you have gone for good but you will come again. In my daydreams, in my afternoons when I will pour tea to my parents, in my diary, in my eyes. You will come on the rainy days when the sky can't take in the tragedies of this world any longer. You will come on paper, in my ink and darling I would gladly escort you in.
We will laugh on how we were such fools. You will tell me you did love me once and I will tell you that I lied I moved on. You will tell me that we were bound to happen if my heart wasn't too scared and I will tell you that maybe it was better in the eyes of God this way.
We will give each other a shy smile. Maybe we will laugh. Who knows.
There will be silence. It will rain.
And then the lightening will strike with a blood curling sound and I will get scared again. But I will love it even more. Each time a little more.
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