"You are, at once, both the quiet and the confusion of my heart."
– Franz Kafka
I had to only close my eyes, and listen to the waves galore. The raised wall, separated me from the quaint water, as I walked the other side, mapping the circumference. The whiff of damp sand, and the salty water kick me back to the times when this used to be my home. I remember the nights I've spent beside you, adoring your beauty, your sound as you convulsed a million times in your own folds, deep in sleep. I'd walk by you. You'd laugh as I scribbled on you. You always let it stay. You'd never smudge my identity, you let me be. Sometimes I'd sketch you, but you'd never stay still, always laughing, making strange faces. I wrote you numerous letters while being apart. I don't know if you ever received them. I never forgot you. My nights which have passed beside you are etched in my memory. Out of all the places I've been to, to make memories, you're my favourite of all. And sometimes, we'd just fill our empty stomachs from the smell of the cakes that Parsi Aunty baked next door. I'll be back. Sooner, this time. A part of me lies in your vicious folds, giving away the shadows of the sun. Sometimes you're the sky, and sometimes the sun itself.
Bombay's my birthplace. And the love of my life.