Remembering You

Sometimes out of no rhyme or reason, I’m lost. Walking down the road, I suddenly find myself staring at the blank sky above, wondering what I was doing there. It is in times like those that I remember you.
While sipping on my morning coffee, I read the newspaper and as I turn a page, sometimes the drink spills. As I stare at the stain that those three drops make on the paper, I remember you.
I often gaze at the high heeled women in my office, amazed, as they walk by. Their heels make an odd clicking sound. Click-clock, Click-clock. When I hear that amidst the chaos around my small cubicle, sometimes, I remember you.
When the first chill of winter sets in, the trees in my garden shed their leaves and as a sneeze comes to me out of nowhere, sometimes, I remember you.
And as the snow starts melting in late march and I start slipping on my front door quite often, sometimes, I remember you.
While texting with my friends, a sudden word gets highlighted and out of nowhere, I remember you.
When I watch someone smile a certain way, or wave their arms this way and that, sometimes, I remember you.
While combing my hair before sleep every night, I often stare glumly at the broken ends of my strands and suddenly I remember you.
Sometimes, I’m caught in a heavy downpour with roads logged with water and no way home. I stand in front of the closed shutters of some shop and drip water on my shoes. And as I stand there, sometimes I remember you.
And you know what’s the craziest thing in all this? In all those strange, odd moments when I remember you, I never realise that I was remembering you. Its just that warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and the ghost of a memory that comes to my mind.

–Anwesha DasGupta