By Keerthana Sujith
I often wonder if I ever cross your mind,
my old friend.
Like how we used to cross our streets,
to rush to each other's houses before we were forced apart,
only to hear a soft knock on the door the next day.
A piece of my childhood-
our childhood,
will always be outside that bedroom window I suppose.
That very window we used to wave from,
with that spark in our eyes, only children have.
I often wonder how life has treated you since we last met,
my old friend.
Is your favourite colour still charcoal?
Do you still laugh the same?
Would I even recognise it?
I remember a time,
back when the wound was still fresh,
back when my heart would still sink.
But now on rare occasions, I let my mind dwell on those sweet memories,
memories that have now begun to blur in the fog of it all.
But most of all, I often wonder, my old friend,
if I’ll ever see you again.
My heartache is now replaced with nostalgia;
an older, finer wine,
The same wine we may never get to try.
The stories we will never forget,
turned into those we would never share,
The thoughts that plagued our minds,
turned out to be burdens we were never meant to bear,
My old friend.
And now all I remember,
is the scattered laughter of little girls,
who would never know that they are playing in moments,
that would soon turn into the wine
of blurry memories,
That I find once in a while,
just happened to pass by.
By Keerthana Sujith
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