Its all alone in the world, this light. It shines and it tries to make sense of the way. It shines alone. Will you ever see it? Will it even stay with me once I've forgotten it once more, this sense of loneliness? How long can a light shine all alone, without having its friend? Can a light shine alone forever, if it never had its friend to remember when its alone? I don't know. I swear I don't know. I know that when they shine together, shine once, shine once and for all, then I can rest peacefully because I know those lights will always be there. We had lights of the prettiest green and blue once. Spinning tops sinking to the bottom of the ocean, like being hypnotized deeper and deeper. Maybe they'll never brighten together; but they will brighten together, in a way. Two lights at the other ends of the ocean, you wouldn't imagine one light reaching the other end. Except it will. They will.
A few months ago, I was sitting on one of the small stools in the kitchen, the ones that make you feel like a little child again, waiting for the water to boil. I was making tea for my dad and thought how cool a feeling that was, to be home again, doing home-things in a warm kitchen where everything was as familiar as it was leisurely. But later, in a different city, in a place just called home, a place that I have to remember by numbers - fourth right turn, third house on the left - a place I have to recognize by signboards and which I sometimes pass over in the dark because I miss the gate, a place where almost-strangers let you in when you ring the bell; I waited the same wait, standing and waiting for the water in a newer pateeli . It wasn't warm at all; it was just a cheerless, empty, disconsolate feeling. It made me feel low to even think of another place as home. Eating in alien plates, drinking in alien glasses. I never learnt to memorize the house number or the telephone n...
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