It cringes me a little when I realise I wouldn’t be knowing who you are anymore. Maybe you’d no longer feel the urge to play with your naval before you get yourself out of the bed. Remember those little twists and turns you would do swirling around my hand? I guess you’d out grow the habit of scribbling in all the open spaces you found on the desk. I don’t think you’d still make time to check up on the moon. Would your food still demand to be served hot in nature? Would you still skip your lunch plans if you have gobi in menu at home? Maybe you wouldn’t consider the elevator as a shoe cleaner anymore. I don’t think the oil spoilt pillow would still be a cruse for you. Would 30 pair of shoe in your closet still be considered as a goal? Would you still be comfortable sleeping upside down? Maybe you’d no longer need a second opinion to select stuff from your online whilst. I don’t think the glass of buttermilk would still manage to fanaticize you. .Would you still find someone to eat the lower part of the bread loaf, and enjoy all the upper part of it? I don’t think a shoe without a socks would still be a bothering for you. Would you still romanticize after white and pink suit? Would you still crib over the malai left in your coconut? Maybe the long walks would no longer interest you. I don’t think you’d now make an effort to remember my phone number. And all the dates which you were suppose to remember.
Maybe the fingers of your palm still reminds you of me.
Maybe, just maybe you still reach out for me every morning.
Because I do.
And there’re very few things as gut-wrenching as standing at the same place after all these while and silently witness your change..