Look for me

I glanced at my feet when walking. I was so absorbed in this act that if at that moment, someone had asked me my name, I would have to think for a good couple of minutes. Up until an hour ago, I had no idea that I’d be here, walking with quick, weak steps on a ground I didn’t belong, along with a crowd I wasn’t a part of. My coming here was a sudden impulse thing. Somewhat foolhardy, yes, just as all impulsive decisions are.

Dazed, yet strangely driven and alert about the goings-on in my immediate surroundings, I straightened and looked up ahead and around. Something more than adrenaline was surging through me, making blood rush past my ears, screaming. Nevertheless, it was going to be quite a long walk, made longer by impatience. The avenue was packed with people from one side to another, forming a carpet with changing patterns.

Identical people. People with a head, and black hair and arms and legs. It was one of those sorts of crowds where you lose sight of the best known faces. I trudged along inch by inch, my knees almost turned to liquid and threatening to fold beneath me. What was going to happen? I had no idea. I was both cold and hot with perspiration in that cool February evening.

In retrospect, the turnout at the fair was surprising. I don’t remember when I saw so many people together before. As I plunged into the throng, I was immediately swept away, like a splinter of wood in a river. I had to walk quite some distance, trying not to get groped and jostled by the crowd, much less have my bag stolen. It was surprising how, surrounded by a multitude, I was on my own, with no one else to find me if I get lost. Alone alone, all all alone, alone on a wide, wide sea. And yet here I was, on a mission to seek you.

I arrived where I thought I’d find you. And there you were, floating like a bubble in a sea of noise. I hadn’t thought finding you would be this easy. It was so effortless, that for a moment I wasn’t sure. But no, there was no mistake, it really was you, it had to be. I hadn’t seen this you at all in a thousand years and so little had changed.

You stood out. Easily.

I made up my mind not to meet you. Standing there firmly against the tide, clutching my bag to my side as people shoved past me, my eyes were riveted on you as though you were a raft in a sea. I was content just looking. Perhaps I will regret not seizing this opportunity to talk to you, lest it became one of those few precious opportunities ever. But this worry only got shrugged off to my back-burner.

Do you remember? I had told you I was going to come to see you again. Here I am. All those years have changed nothing, taken away nothing. Here I am.

Look for me.

I don’t know how long I stood there, concentrating on the old familiar feeling of proximity to you. Perhaps an impoverished minute? A measly couple of them?

Look for me.

“Excuse me, Miss? Are you going to buy this book?” the bookseller prompted. I reached to count the money quickly, and as I did so, I was amused to see that my hands were sweaty and trembling. I tried to give myself one of those pep-talks to ease my nerves. Breathe. Calm down. Everything’s all right. Breathe. He gave me an odd look, took the money and sailed me through.

But by then, you had gone. I had lost you, preempted by the Clones. And they hadn’t spared one moment to fill up the space you left behind, swirling in like a whirlpool. I sifted through a kaleidoscope of Clones as wave after wave crashed in and flowed past-- people with heads, black shock of hair, arms and legs. And you were no where.

Well. I reasoned, I wasn’t going to meet you anyway and those two minutes were fairly enough. I stepped out into the noisy brightness and was swept away with the crowd. Despite that intent of steel, I couldn’t help but feel empty when I was walking home. In a moment of weakness, I badly wanted to call you, and tell you to meet me somewhere, near a coffee shop or book stall, I don’t care just let me see you another time! It took every last ounce of determination when you were in my vicinity, I knew it, and I was still walking further and further away. I could have touched you if I had wanted, you were this close.

I tore my mind off a reverie; it had you and me and this steadily emptying avenue in it. Something dense was stuck in my throat and it threatened to suffuse throughout my being into a fully-fledged storm. But I barreled past all those throngs of people, pushing and elbowing them away, my path becoming less crowded. Suddenly I was the one ploughing my way through a swarm. The strides became longer and quicker, and a heaviness lurked inside, tying my innards into a knot. I looked at my feet this time. Regular steps. No quivering knees anywhere. The “something dense” still remained but I was looking for my car now, willing my brain to think of something constructive.

But just so, I could have been walking with you right now.

Streetlamps were running backwards and I was again in the midst of the jungle of blinking twinkling lights of traffic. It was over. The moment was over and gone. Calmness flooded over me, accompanied by a feeling of safety. My earth hadn’t shattered; I was still standing right over it. And I had bought something expensive from the fair that day: a demonstration that assured me that I didn’t need Chance, Destiny or What-Have-You to dictate this one fate. At least not this one.

Oh that book too. Or those books, I don’t really remember how many I bought and what they’re called. They’re still lying on my shelves, unread.