This person I meet reminds me of someone who was once close to my heart. As I make new memories with him, the old ones resurface. It seems like two roads are running side by side. The old and the new. My heart wishes for something that no longer is. And my heart sings for what presently is.
The laughter and banter that I had back then can no longer be created. But this person I now meet, reminds me of it. He shines light on those long-lost memories that have gone into hiding. A slideshow of remembrances plays in the background as I spend time with this person unbeknownst to me.
A memory where this brother of mine was my closest confidant. The person I turned to when all hell would break loose. This brother of mine who would come to my rescue at the drop of a hat. I just had to call and he would be right there by my side. This memory where I made him take a mid-week break from work just because I couldn’t cope with the grief of losing my father and he did it. No questions asked. This brother of mine who is lost to time because our lives went in different directions. But he continues to be there when all hell breaks loose still. No questions asked. As always. He knows those moments when I am broken and helps me to put myself back together even when his life is infinitely busier than mine. This memory of us in college together, walking the corridors of that ancient building, laughing without restraint. Laughing with that arrogance that only comes when we are that young and that naïve. A memory of him taking me shopping to make up for many birthdays and rakshabandhans, a memory of his wedding day, and then mine. Memories that light up my life as I look back in time.
I miss this brother of mine…
This person I meet reminds me of him. The gentleness, the ease, the questions he asks out of life, his ability to just be present to me, his ability to be with me, the sarcasm, the wit, the humour, the hopelessness, the hope. This person who is so different from my brother, but somehow still brings back an avalanche of memories from a time long gone. This person whom I share an altogether different bond with, pulls at a string that is tied to some part of me. I think that string is a potent balm for me. I think this string is called safety or security or protection. I think it is meant to create a sense of agency, a sense of personhood while I simultaneously connect with someone intimately. I think this string connects me to me in more ways than one…
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