Your blue pouch

You don’t know that I feel hard to start writing about you without mentioning your name at first.  At the same time I feel name not necessary, then I just move on. Am supremely confident that when you read this letter, you will understand it is addressed to you. Moreover this letter starts with ‘you’.

          

            I wonder why only your memories bring me more happiness than any. I feel happy when I talk with you, when I memorize you and the fact that I was with you long ago. Wish in your mind I appear seldom.

           

           You had a sky blue jeans pouch with you. You used take out money from it whenever we fought for paying bills. Remember?  I liked that pouch.  I liked the color of it and mostly I liked for it was been with you most of the times. A non living thing that so lucky than me

            

           That day we were been to temple in an evening. I did not pray. I watched you praying. You closed your eyes not so long and spoke something yourself. We then sat at stairs. You asked what I did pray. I don’t remember what I replied but I still remember that I thanked god for being reason for me to be with you. I cracked some jokes and you laughed beautifully. I realized that whole happiness of my life lies within your smile. At the temple, in front of god, your smile looked so devoted. First time I liked god.

          

            Once we were having tea at college canteen. We were talking along sipping hot tea. You remembered something and unzipped your bag, took Goodday biscuits. You asked to have some. We ate few of them. I asked if you want to have anything. You said no. It was our first encounter at canteen.

          

               I like you, you know it. You may even know that it is not just ‘like’. It is something much more. It is something you cannot judge. It is something that keeps me going. It is something can’t explainable. It’s not liking nor loving.