.... and I Will Be Flying On a Broomstick

            The narrow dirt track that used to be my way back home from school. That feels like a lifetime away. I don’t remember much now. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle with lots of pieces missing. I remember laughter. Snatches of conversation. The sun beating down on the track. Bicycles. Green and white uniforms. Children running, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. Smell of horse dung in the air.             That narrow dirt track in a small town. Would it still remember the scruffy little kid whose footsteps were always lighter on her way back from school?             Another way back home. This time, a different home. I know that route by heart. After all, I took the same route for two years. I counted the number of steps it took to reach home. Sometimes, I studied the cracks in the pavements and came up with hidden patterns. Sometimes, I would look up and watch the clouds shifting in the evening sky. The way back home in that busy city was always inte

I. F. E. B. R. A. R….. No, that’s not it. F. E. B. U. R. A. R….. This doesn’t seem right. F. E. B. R. U. R. Y? It’s missing something. Right. An “A” that doesn’t know where it belongs. In primary school, she learns that life’s not fair. It’s really not, when you are born in a month with the hardest spelling. II. High school. Where the rich, the smart and the pretty ruled. The one with the shiny car who wears a different watch to school every day. The one who gets full marks in every exam, every freaking time. The one who everyone crushes on and the source of inspiration for teenage love poems. Money, brains or looks. If you had one of those, you had power. The kind of power that makes others look up to you in awe (or in some cases, a little bit of fear). It sucked because she had none of those. But then, she found books. And she learned that there’s a different kind of power. The kind that made life that much more colorful and interesting. The power of im

            In maths, “x” is the unknown number. Find “x”. Solve the equation for “x”. What is the value of “x”? The mysterious “x” that always evaded you. After high school, you thought your search for that elusive “x” was finally over. But then, you met him, the “X” of your life, and just like that, you are back to square one.             Where do you start? It is much easier for you to describe a scene, a place or a person you know well. But when it comes to him, it’s a different matter. The thing is, you know him like the back of your hand and the back of your head, which means you know him too well and too little at the same time. Sometimes he gets on your nerves. Sometimes he can be really endearing. Sometimes, you hate him. But most of the time, you love him. What is he to you? Is he your friend? He’s not just a friend. Is he your boyfriend? No. It’s complicated. To keep things simple, let’s just say he’s your “X”. Of the 26 letters in the English alphabet, you de

(1) People who are considerate and asks, "Are you okay?" not because they feel like they have to but because they truly care. (2) People who you can share comfortable silences with. (3) People who give you their full attention when you're talking. (4) People who can make your day with just a wave, a smile or a simple hi. Because you just know they are genuinely happy to see you, from the way their eyes twinkle, the way their faces light up or the way their lips curve upwards. (5) People who remember to check up on you. You may go without speaking to each other for long periods of time but they always ask how you're doing every once in a while. It's always a pleasant surprise to hear from them. (6) People who go and check out the songs you tell them you are loving at the moment. Coz sharing music is one of the ways you bare your soul to someone else. (7) People who keep their promises, whether big or small. (8) People who show that they car

In the beginning, there were “hello”s. Then, followed the many late-night conversations. Would you believe me if I tell you that I still replay those conversations inside my head like a broken tape. Or would you laugh and tell me I’m just being “sentimental” as usual? That’s not me missing you. I remember that day. Rain, crowds, cars, mud and umbrellas. The clouds were nervous in the dark sky and so was I. A movie and a shared popcorn. You let me eat the last of the popcorn. That was not a date. I lay down all my cards on the table and you, you had no intention of showing your cards to anyone. I slowly learned how to play the game by reading into your silences. But since the beginning, you always had the upper hand. I was the fool who did not know when to hold or fold while you were the master of the game who could play it with your eyes closed. That was not me falling for you. I never knew where I stood with you. That dance we were in. Always one step forward, tw

It was   a nice day to say goodbye. We sat together at a coffee shop under the clear blue sky. Crowds of people walked past without sparing us a single glance. Everyone was seemingly caught up in their own little worlds. There were certain things I wanted to say. Things like: “This is the last time we’re gonna see each other in a very long time.” “I’m going to miss you.” “I wish we had more time.” And there were certain questions I wanted to ask. Questions like: “How are you feeling right now?” “Will you miss me when I’m gone?” “Are you going to wait for me?” But that day, neither of us said any of those things. Instead, we talked about the weather and how nice it was that day. We watched the people walking by because it was less awkward than maintaining eye-contact with each other and having that conversation. Together, we wondered what it was that they were selling across the street like it was some sort of existential question we were so curious abo