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         She still remembers the day they first met. A sultry October afternoon, curtains drawn against the blazing sun, the streets empty of people but for the occasional hawker and a few stray dogs. The morning chores over, a languor spread over her as she relaxed over the customary afternoon cup of tea. He seemed vaguely familiar from the first moment, the chiseled features, the piercing eyes, the faintly amused expression. A common background of growing up in adjacent small towns, a shared love for books and music, a way with words, soon the initial ice was broken and conversation flowed effortlessly. 'Serendipity', he said as they parted the first time, 'to have found you so'. 'A word smith', she breathed, as she reveled in a world of new pleasures. The day passed in a haze, as did the weeks thereafter. The only memories of long interchanges of thoughts, of getting to know each other's secrets, joys and sorrows, likes and dislikes. He loved long hair, thunderstorms, the smell of wet earth, she loved to hear him talk. He made her laugh as no one could, their private jokes making her smile at odd moments of the day. A stab of jealousy as he talked of old loves, a keen delight as he wooed her relentlessly. She drowned in his eyes, he played with her long hair, they held hands as they walked through the old forts and palaces of Rajasthan. Their eyes locked into each other's on moonlit beaches, they came closer on winding paths of secluded hill stations. He was her world, his words a bridge across the chasm between them. And the stray doubts that darkened her mind, the inconsistencies he refused to talk about, easily swept under the carpet. Till the terrible day he failed to come. A million explanations she offered to herself, none of which provided any comfort. The tears flowed unhindered, the next day and the next. The world ceased to matter as she went through the motions of life. Reliving each moment, going over the minute details in the vain hope of making sense. Darkness descended over the world, igniting a streak of insanity in her. A million messages sent, angry, entreating, each more desperate than the other, to no avail. The days turned to months, the tears stopped but the world lost all light. Years have passed, but her eyes still seek him, she longs to hear his voice. Though she knows he is lost to her forever, she spends hours thinking of what may have happened. Did he never feel what she felt? Was she one of many for him? Or was he no longer of this world? Questions, each more haunting than the other, with no answers. Blissful ignorance, she tells herself is better than damning knowledge. Still she waits, yearning for the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.