i miss.
I miss auto rickshaw rides at dusk, the wind whipping my face and hair, the twilit sea of humanity melting together
I miss rich, doughy-sour dosa folded and dipped into fiery sambar
I miss children’s school uniforms in colors as varied as schools
I miss throwing my doors open to cool winter mornings
I miss walking to Nilgiri’s for groceries at 8:00 at night, the streets alive with people and noise and life
I miss the swelling satisfaction upon finding that elusive baking ingredient
I miss flowers that demand to be noticed: hot pinks and oranges and tropical red
I miss Deepakshi’s rajma