Zaima E Jannat

Perhaps there is another world out there where you and I will be the right person, at the right place, at the right time. I hope that in that world, the clock ticks in our favour, your arms are always in mine, and there is nothing ahead of us but only the opportunity to create memories—no more partaking in moments only for them to be turned into nostalgia at some point. Maybe in that world, we can only associate the term nostalgia with living in a world where we were the right person for each other but at the wrong time. I pray that in another world, we will turn young again, we will fall in love again, and at that time, destiny will never separate us again. I could only wish now that we, too, got associated with the term “star-crossed lovers,” but that all happened in the previous world, and there is no room for such things in that other world. 

You will come back to me, right? For once and for a lifetime? For eternity and aeon? You won’t slip away through the gaps of my fingers again, right? You, once again, won’t become a part of my heart-wrenching nostalgia, right? Come, oh dear, please come! Hold my hand and put yours into mine. Pull me closer, uplift me, and twirl me into the air. Even then, through my giggles and grinning, you’ll hear me say, 

“Whatever wrong happened to us in this world, we will make them right in that another world. Maybe then, there will be no room for you to become a part of my bereaved nostalgia again, but my beautiful reality, forever and ever.”