Stay

A couple of nights ago, I went searching for my mobile backup from last monsoon. I found pictures of my half-empty suitcase from when you physically uprooted me from my work desk and forced me to pack, humming to yourself as I attempted to squiggle away in vain. I don’t quite remember how we got there, but the morning was chilly, and the soft mountain sun seeped through the glass windows as you lay there, smiling calmly at me. I scrolled past the photos, one by one, pausing to remember how we stopped to get matching rain coats, the shitty concoction that the coffee shop claimed was made of sugarcane juice, the picture where I am deliriously laughing like someone cracked the funniest joke, when all you’d done was get close enough for me to feel ticklish, squirming for escape from your seemingly innocent hug. There are the sadly attempted slow shutter shots of your head out the window, the wind in your hair, and in your nose in some, eyes half-closed in some, some with half my finger in front of the camera, and of course the one with your palm against the lens, shutting down the time I am allowed to bury my head behind the camera. Then there are the pictures of all the lemon teas I had, of the sun rising and seeping through your hair, you setting a picture I shot of your neck as your phone wallpaper, of sheets crumpled from having rolled in them all day, one of you and your cheese cracker, that pair of funny green shades, and endless videos of me just watching you walk – video after video of us walking through the freshly rained upon mud roads, you ahead of me, pausing occasionally to throw me a look, a hundred useless eye rolls hidden in that momentary pursing of your lips. I can almost hear me smiling to myself in my head as I wait for you to turn and continue walking uphill, your flip flops squawking against the red, wet soil. There isn’t one word spoken, no sound breaking the constant murmuring of the foliage around, an occasional toad, and of insects that find their way home every time it rains. It’s getting dark so much earlier these days, Chennai so cold for me, the fan is only on speed 2. I find the few videos I’d transferred to my phone and marked ‘favourite,’ and there you are, turning back, looking at me like I am hopeless, pursing your lips, and then trotting ahead.. How many twisted roads until you found your way to me.. How many convoluted human spaces, one leading to another, throwing you from here to there, twirling you, leaving you dizzy, this more insane than the last, leaving you almost completely out of breath and faith, before it lit your way into my arms.. How many quiet nights until the quiet around me wasn’t all that uneasy with your breath against my shoulders, your body softly heaving as your dreamt your dreams, snuggling closer.. I am not done memorizing the warmth in your eyes when you catch me staring at you doing mundane things, the sight of you fixing the curtains in my clothes, getting wrinkly satin-ribbon roses from you in the middle of the day, or the aroma of bitter coffee you make for yourself as you find your way to my desk, pull a chair, legs stretched, and watch me work.. I am not done tracing the galaxies as I map the moles on your body, carefully collected, scooped up, to throw into your sky, illuminating every wish, every desire I hold for you.. Stay. ** Assuming you read everything before this, hold on to that feeling, hit play, and check out the pictures. :)