Little things.

Yes, it is the little things that I miss now. The event in totality is pushed under the carpet. Consciously of course. It is your tiny gestures that come to my mind in a flash now and fill my mind with a longing to tell you how much cherish you and those little things.

For instance, that orderliness about your way of life. The way you would meticulously chop onions into small pieces to make sure each piece is cut exactly the way the other is. The way you make a checklist of things you carry in your suitcase and tick the checkboxes as you pack those back into your bags when you get ready to leave. The manner in which you pick that little comb from out of your pocket and comb your hair to put them in place, to make sure not a single strand of hair is where it shouldn’t be.

The patience you have to keep the things in the place they were, where they are meant to be. The style with which you plan the small things in life systemically and execute them to perfection I could never have done these myself. And I didn’t think too much of your ability to do so, not till you walked out of life.

Another is about those snug romantic moments. I think of times when you would be engrossed in reading the newspaper or a magazine, and in an unexpected second put it aside to glance at me adoringly. And then the times we cross the road, your hand would reach out for mine and hold on till we reach the other side with a strong concerned grip. I chide myself now for stopping you every time you try tickle me to death, I had not an iota of idea how much they mean to me. I yen to have back those dawns when you would lie next to me by the side, nuzzling and hugging me light to see that smile that spreads across my face as I feel the warmth of your hands around me.

I truly miss those heated arguments that have no beginning or end , it would then take a call from either of us to the other before we burst out laughing over the stupidity of the whole affair. I often think of the way you push my head to rest it on your chest and kiss my forehead as you goodbye, it is then I that I muster the courage to part. I long for those late night menial conversations that see me through the day, the simple transactional enquiries. The cozy good mornings that kick start my day and the dreamy goodnights that put me to sleep. I treasure those carefully chosen words on sms you painstakingly type down to pep me up every time I lost my zest for life.

The one time of the day I miss you the most is when I send you a mail and don’t see a reply in Arial 10, saying “Always Yours”. Yes,it is the little things. That little thing.