I have often asked her, “What is it that you love the most”? Her reply was always the same, “my cup of tea”. She used to get excited every time we discussed tea and every time, I teased her by comparing my bitter black coffee with her sweet tea. That was her fondest memory, and mine is the idea of her. Everything about her fascinated me. The way she used to tell every minor detail of her day; the regular fights in university and how she won the argument with her silly classmates. Whenever she would call me, she would brag about her day for hours and I would just listen to her voice and God was it the best melody I had ever listened to
If you ever come across the phrase, “home is not a place, it is people”, it will definitely remind you of me. My idea of home is a little weird, just like me. For me, home is not always a place, sometimes home can be people, a thing, or an idea. Home is what gives you peace and makes you sleep at night. Anything or anyone who can make this insane world bearable is home. The world pushes you down and when you are about to give up, something reminds you of all the beautiful things life is worth for. That is home for me. But as it is said, not everyone is lucky enough to have a home. Unlike some people who find it easily, there are people like me who don’t have a home. Indeed, there are definitely people like me, wandering in this world, surviving, and looking for a home.
If I keep on writing about home, I will fill in pages so let’s get back to the point, the cup of tea. Just like her, I liked the idea of asking anything while she had her cup of tea. She was the softest and the most beautiful girl I had ever met. And when she drunk her cup of tea, I had the privilege of asking anything I wanted to, because I knew she will never say no. I loved this idea, and I loved her, just like her tea. Despite the fact that I was always a coffee person, dark, bitter, and strong; while she was the tea, sweet and sugary.
Nothing lasts forever, so as long as you have something, embrace it. Embrace the idea of having something, cherish every moment of your life, and enjoy being alive. Regrets and disappointments leave no room for fulfillment. Trust me, as I am penning down this piece, the only thing that can keep you sane are the moments that you cherish and enjoy, like I did. I enjoyed every moment I spent with her, cherished every second of her company, and embraced her presence. I did everything I could, and yet it wasn’t enough. It never is. So, while you have something, don’t ever fool yourself in believing that you can have it forever, don’t take it for granted.
After all this time, as I am writing this, scribbling through pages with my rotten thoughts and shaking hands, and sipping my bitter coffee, I know she will be somewhere with a cup of tea in her hand, reading poetry from a torn book that smells of old library filled with ambience of wood and flavor of rosemary. I know that she will be smiling again for all the little silly things, enjoying every moment of her life, like we promised. Life isn’t the same, but I know hers’ would be much better than mine, hers’ would be a bed of daisies, in an oasis, away from the hot desert that I am walking in, unable to find home. Where ever she would be, she would be home. And that, that is what keeps me alive.