When someone steal the thoughts…
Yes…that’s exactly what I mean! Thoughts that you think, and someone pens them down! Thoughts that are deep bone true! This post is not mine, but of a university friend of mine. She shared it on FB, and since she has some weird privacy settings, I couldn’t help but share it.
Reasons:
- I wanted to share it with everybody
- I am hooked to it, and wanted to come back again and again to read it!
Here it goes:
What made me miss you there
I miss the comfort of a private vehicle, a sedan, hatchback or just a bike, to recline after a stiff drink late in the evening. To be driven home silently without having to chase the first auto, be alert enough to change into the next two; to regulate the cold winds or just be packed in a jacket and layers of a stole or scarf or even a dupatta. I miss nenjukkul peididhum playing on the loop. I miss safety.
I don't want expensive dining. I miss candlelight though. And the promise of a tomorrow. I miss the sense of security.
I miss a constant. Someone I can bug, hug, cook for, ask to be cooked for, pile on, beg to be taken out - out for concerts, drives, movies, walks, plays, ice cream, a drink, a weekend trip, a swim.
True, to have all these would be a matter of chance or luck, but it seems more and more impossible to find all of these in one place. Of course, to want them all at once is, in itself, insane.
But I seem not to be the only one. Last Sunday morning I had a long chat with a friend who ranted about pretty much the same thing, of course, perhaps not as desperate sounding.
Of course remembering you had nothing to do with all this. Somewhere along the way I drifted off. The recorder did its job and she kept talking.
I don't want expensive dining. I miss candlelight though. And the promise of a tomorrow. I miss the sense of security.
I miss a constant. Someone I can bug, hug, cook for, ask to be cooked for, pile on, beg to be taken out - out for concerts, drives, movies, walks, plays, ice cream, a drink, a weekend trip, a swim.
True, to have all these would be a matter of chance or luck, but it seems more and more impossible to find all of these in one place. Of course, to want them all at once is, in itself, insane.
But I seem not to be the only one. Last Sunday morning I had a long chat with a friend who ranted about pretty much the same thing, of course, perhaps not as desperate sounding.
Of course remembering you had nothing to do with all this. Somewhere along the way I drifted off. The recorder did its job and she kept talking.
(Write up: Priyanka Vaishnav)
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