It’s always the souvenirs that bring back the memories…

What’s left of the touch, the feel, the images, the emotions, all collected in a small piece to be preserved, tucked away in the small little place on the mantle…

In one such box, the red one, the pure silk one, the one which has a golden rim, the one which looks like the treasure chest that’s out for display but no one is allowed to touch, exactly the one at the far end, that one has earings kept in them …

The blue one, the red one, the silver one, the pale one, the stud, the loop, the long one too …

Now here is a little secret… none of these earrings are in pairs. All are singles, you may ask why ?

That because they are just like me…
They are the souvenirs of the beautiful nights….

Of long walks and drives
Of stories untold
Of grey and pink skies
Of sunsets that turned into mornings
Of crisp white shirt stained while whispering “darling”…
Of hands that traced the jaw line…
Of tears that came post partying

They are the souvenirs of lost love gained…
They are the souvenirs of memories made…
They are the stories which never were told…
Held closed to heart where eternal magic unfolds….