And She was a Hurricane

Dear You-know-who-you-are,

Something I read last night reminded me of you. So, here I go...

There was something about that evening when we met for the first time. The very first time I saw you, I knew we were meant to move mountains for each other. And shortly thereafter, we fucked up.
I'm generally a very disconnected, aloof individual who only on the constant coaxing of a person who's not my best friend anymore, left my Play-station for the good and tagged along to meet you.
There was loud music, too much chaos, then there was you and everything around me fell silent.
Just like it happens in a slow-mo sequence, I could hear a faint sound of a guitar riff. It felt soft. But your lips were softer. I vividly remember that dhaba in the middle of nowhere, besides the highway, under the heavy rains. I can recall that very second when our lips locked, and the next thirty seconds just seemed like eternity. Till that chotu passed by, giggled and served us Chai-Samosa. Best cup of tea I've ever had!
Coming back to the first time when we met, there was loud music and louder people all around. Gaudy, made-up, lots of color in what they wore and all that jazz. And there you were, an antithesis to all of that - Sporting a Kurti, demure, brutally gorgeous. That was it for me, I could tell. And we did connect. We read the same books, listened to the same kind of music, feared education together, hated profs together, laughed them off over the countless cigarettes we shared together. You were my biggest inspiration. When I was crunching numbers at my Dad's office, you pushed me to write often and I pushed you to code often. Girls who code are respectfully hot, something I realised after we met.
You always wished us to be in the same college. Nevertheless, we bunked classes, holed up in our respective rooms, scrapbooking each other on Orkut, talking sweet-nothings on the phone. I still remember how you found Gtalk to be creepy and how the queer scent of a book used to turn you on.

The world has changed so much now. People these days use something called WeChat to keep in touch. I assume you do too. They read their books on tablets. They listen to music that's electronic. Facebook is the new Orkut. Orkut is as dead as dead can be, of course. They don't call upon each other, when at work, eat their dinners quietly and yet, make love only on weekends. Too mechanical, I say. I'm sure you'll agree too.

You do, Don't you?