Take Me Home
Send Me a Song if We Ever Stop Talking.
Do you still think of me?
I wonder if you still listen to the songs that we once played. We named the playlist, Home. Ironic.
Was it a Tuesday when we cried to sleep?
I wanted to make you feel better but I didn’t know how to so I kept my playlist as my WhatsApp status thinking that you might listen to it and perhaps it would convey a million times more than just words.
Wash away your December storm. Don’t wish me goodbye, my caramelized sun.
Do you remember the night when the bonfire was still ablaze catching up the horizon?
The guitar stopped playing and the strumming stopped with the fading stars.
We were in while all sunk onto the couch fast asleep.
Just You and Me.
We had a thousand songs in our playlists, but we hummed our way into tapping our feet and waltzing away in the drawing room singing some gibberish lyrics.
We cracked up.
We took charge this time.
So, we plugged in our earphones cause the gibberish lyrics were about to dim but we weren’t ready to undo ourselves from the tender hold.
This time, neither of us suggested nor requested.
The song started playing from the shuffle. It was one of the songs which had words that made no sense to us. Was it Russian?
Words enough to cast a sheepish smile across our faces. A song only we knew existed.
Once the beat came, you looked up and searched me with your eyes.
I did the same and so our eyes locked. We sent each other our secret conversations that only the lyrics could decipher. None could relate to it.
We were as close as it could get.
You and I, sleepy-eyed, messy hair and bedridden clothes were all in sync with the tune.
What about the end of the day?
We were tired and exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open.
But we had enough time for a movie.
Didn’t we?
Whose turn was it?
Suddenly, the song changes, introducing some unprecedented lyrics.
Startled, I roused myself from slumber, realizing that music was being played on my phone.
I had dozed off.
A cloud of grim sadness envelops me as I grapple with the notion that this is nothing but just a dream.
I turn off the music and lay flat on my back.
I begin to think, Do you even remember me?
Do you like reading? Me too.
Did you like what you just read? If yes, don’t miss when my articles get published.
Subscribe and don’t let the algorithm decide what you read.
