DOWN THE MEMORY LANES-I

“Do you remember the day, Miranda?” Do you remember me?
I used to walk down the road, with a faded backpack, worn-out slippers and ALL the acne scars in the world. I was one of those many girls who used to walk past your house, always hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You were super busy, pampered, only child. Girls were your hobby, like rowing. And you never touched anything that you had used before. You were easily bored. You wanted new hobbies every other day.

But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

I wasn't pretty, I never topped in my class, my parents never gave me fancy things like yours, I used to take the bus to reach school. You, or precisely men like you, were off limits for me.

But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.


Remember the day I cried in front of you, for the first time? Not that I had never cried before, I just had never felt that helpless before. I couldn't feel my senses, I was numb. But still, my cheeks felt flushed. I was humiliated, embarrassed, angry with myself. I wanted the earth to part, I just wanted to disappear anyhow. But I knew, it was my last chance and I had to try my best. I did, to be honest. I just didn't know that you had already taken your decision. 'I'm sorry re, there's nothing I can do about it. Trust me, if there were any other way, I'd have done it. It just wasn't meant to be.'-Your parting words had meant so much to me! It felt so real! I just didn't know that it felt so convincing because you had the scene acted out in your head a thousand times. You just didn't care. I didn't have anything new to offer to you.

 But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

Remember your mom? She was the center of  your world, or so you made me believe. I still don't know why she hated me so much. Maybe because she knew that I was too honest. Maybe because she knew that I was ready to go to any extent for you. Maybe she was afraid that one day, you might have to choose between the two of us. She should've talked to you first. That would've spared her many a sleepless nights. How proud she'd have been of you! Because you never planned to choose. You were just playing.

 But I didn't know any of these back then. I was just thirteen years old, desperate to get a little attention, to feel a pair of rough lips, smelling of smoke, brushing past mine.

Remember Princep Ghat? Remember the way you used to play with my hair? Remember the way you used to whisper my name between those shy kisses? Remember you promised to write a song for me someday? Guess so many girls were already in the queue, so, my turn hasn't come yet. As a matter-of-fact, you never lied to me. You always told me when you 'didn't feel like talking to me' or 'had a good time' with someone else or were 'lost for a reason to keep this relationship going.' I sometimes wonder if you did that purposely to hurt me or because you were really honest. I don't know what your obsession was with my tears. You just never seemed to have enough of them. What makes you think that you deserved it? You were just another Engineer, studying in a very ordinary college, you were anything but good-looking, you weren't into books, you had two left feet, you stammered when you were nervous, your dressing sense was worse than Sunny Deol but still I loved you and many more girls did. I don't know why. Maybe it had something to do with your rustic charm and 'tough guy' attitude. Girls just love falling for badasses! And as far as I'm concerned, I toh always have had a thing for people who were bad influence in my life. But I don't blame you. You never made any promises, let alone breaking them! I just was too expectant. When I finally realized that you were like north wind and you'll never be able to stick to one girl, it was too late. I just wonder sometimes, do you remember me at all? Do you remember our evenings? Do you remember our escapades? Do you remember those moments in the backseat of the cabs? Do you remember that I curl my fingers in my sleep? Do you remember that my throat becomes dry whenever I've a nightmare? Or was I 'just another fling' for you? I'll never know.