Young man Old boY

The first sip of filter coffee at a serene South Indian café

My first Davidoff

Afternoons, both sunny and gloomy that drifted to infinity

The randomness of all our discussions and lousy thoughts

Now that our regular meetings at a beautiful place are no more

I wish to breathe, think and feel the times we have spent together.

p.s: I dropped the verbs at places. They perturb me when I’m emotional.

The Gnome: I want to tell you a story 'Bout a little man if I can

A soul leaves this town;

leaves the dust, sunshine, traffic, Princeton, home, familiar faces of this old place.

A soul desperate in love leaves the dusty streets of Kolkata to run away from his infidel lover.

Perhaps this was ineluctable or maybe flexible.

Infidelity: we sometimes choose to be a moth into the fire; we choose to be liars.
It was destined. Perhaps.

Oasis

She was the colleen who made christmas '07 so special and yet so simple.

Once she turned down a treat in kookie jar for road-side phuchka; something which I found to be comically absurd.

She used to make an ordinary journey back home from school in a packed bus worthwhile.

She was the missing link between two of my alma mater.

It's she who I pledge in my cup of grief when I'm down and distrubed.

I'm running out of words.

So I decide to borrow some to end this:

It only takes a minute of your precious time to turn around

I'll be two steps behind.