#10 I still remember you – A letter I wrote two years ago.

I sit in a park, beneath a sky of pristine blueness and think of you. It is March, and the grass turning brown and yellow. Crushed, it still smells sweet. The afternoon sun beats on the oak leaves and turns them glittering silver. I try to see your hazel eyes, feeling its sensation. I am aware again of the texture of your skin, the coolness of your feet, and sharp tingle of your fingertips.

I know you are not thinking of me now, as you sit in your room, resting or laughing or trying to study of your examinations. There will be a lot of girls circling about you and perhaps you are not able to think of yourself. I do not know whether you remember the talks or not. But, I know once you had asked me about you. You know, you are still a child and yet you found it easy to quiet my impatient heart.

I can never forget the day we met each other. I still remember I was shabbily dressed in a concrete uniform with a mop of ruffled hair. We were walking aside the highway. We talked a little while and then a black car halted on the highway suddenly reversed. To save you, I grabbed your hand and pulled you towards me, but in embarrassment, you thrust my hand away. This hurt me a little because I was just protecting you. And if you know that then you must know that the same day we met again. You saw me with your surprise looking eyes. It was the eyes as though of puppy: sweet and small. I do not remember much of that day as I was struggling to cope your strides. You walk so fast and seriously, I hate it.

You told me about a senior boy who is your new friend. When I heard it, I was consumed by jealous- an emotion which I thought had grown out long ago. You may forget the walks on the narrow path round the lake, in early morning, but I will never forget the first ray of sunshine sloshing on you. I hate the sunshine for caressing your face. In fact, I hate everything, from the hairs that kisses your ears to the bangles that clutches your hands whole day and night.
You remember the day when you were showing me videos on your mobile. I was genuinely not interested because I was mesmerized by your puppy face. Gently, I wanted to kiss your eyes and forehead, and wanted to whisper in your ears: Beautiful…

You chastised me which I have never expected. I decided to ignore you, but every time I think about of hating you something again takes me on you. I am a foolish and yet a lover again.

It is the writings and books of Ruskin Bond that helped me to complete this letter, two years ago. Today, after reading this letter a couplet came in my mind which I had written somewhere in my diary: 

Beetey huye dinon ki yaadon mein jab uska khayal niklaa

Tab abr-e-mausam mein aftaab niklaa

(When memories of her rose from the past times of my life, years later.

Then sun rose from the cloud laden weather)