When the Winter Knocks on my door

The exams are pretty much over. Except one (Water), rest were pretty much okay. As the storm is over, the strong sense of foreboding is taking over. The feeling of dread of something that I know not. This is familiar feeling.

Known territory.

This land is mine.

And I am going home. In the winter. For a month. For the first time in close to four years. To the mela that happens in our neighborhood. To the rides, and the fuchkas. All the familiar feelings that I had stored in my memory. The boxes that I had kept locked. The keys that I had thrown away. The sports rifle shooting shop where you were crying to take a few hits at the balloons along with your friends. The longing for some time even there, just for a few minutes remains. I pretended to not see you, as you did not 'see me'. Egos got the better of both, yours and mine. I walked past, off to home. I wish I had a time machine. I could go back, turn the clock back, snatched a few minutes, just a few hundred seconds so that this box of memory would not have remained empty.

Perhaps you had someone else in your mind. As I did. Many. One after another. I have tried. I did not discriminate. Married, dark, fair, short, tall - all and sundry. Why then now, in this time of void, why do I absent mindedly unpack your blocks? Why do I long for the letters, the cards I wrote to you, the card that you torn on my face - why do I long even for that? Why do want those back - all those that I burned more than 9 years back? Literally.

Why do I want to turn the clock back by 11 years?

Why even 13 years? Why now?

I wish I had some answers. Some answers are more difficult than finding energy requirements of water pumps in a whole taluka.

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