I still remember that day when you walked into the room, adorned in your bright black Nehru-like coat and regular khadi kurta. Many will say that you looked like one among the many inquilabis sitting in that gloomy room of the officer. And yet all I could positively see was you. You, with your bright fire of revolution in your eyes. You, with an all-consuming love in your eyes. You, who glanced at me only to wink and smile at me, making me want to lose all my self and sanity right there and lay it at your feet. Why had you such power over me?
There was that time and there is now. All the memories have started to become a bit hazy, and yet I cling to them like they are the only reasons for me to live. The glances we shared at the mehndi of your sister, the letters I left with the common milkman in which I tried so hard to write at least one sher which was similar in quality to yours which sounded like they would put Ghalib to shame, the night we shared in the abandoned haveli near the ghat. I go to the ghat even now; relive everything again and again as though one of these days I will be able to go back in time. And believe me, I shall remember all of it till the end of my days. For now, there are no reasons and no revolutions. There is but only me here and you there.
Dristi Buzar Baruah
5th Semester
B.A. History Honors
Edited by Himakshi Devi
Art Curated by: Angel Rose Thomas
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