I will miss..

I will miss waking up in the morning to the clear blue sky spotted with clouds right in front of me. I will miss hearing the faint strains of the fluteman playing a lovely old tune on a cloudy day. The rhythm bursting out of his small flute, and enveloping the entire locality as if it were a morning call to show everyone the beauty in life. I will miss calling out to my mom while still in bed, and making her sit next to me while I still laze in bed. Her sweet warmth, and constant morning chatter gently making me smile. I will miss seeing my dad walk into the room, crack some jokes as the pair of us and then go back to his laptop and his futile attempts at copy and pasting things.

I will miss finding a glass of Sun-water, a glass of Nimbu-water and almonds at my bedside table. I will miss finding the coffee ready and waiting for me once I have brushed my teeth. I will miss reading the papers with my mom, discussing crimes in the city, and politics and celebrities. I will miss helping my mom make lunch, a thorough Gujarati lunch of Dal-Bhaat-Rotli-Shaak. And some pickle, and some aachar, and Chaas, and Salad and what-not. I will miss laying out the table for lunch, serving my dad, eating together with them. I already miss the presence of my brother at the dining table, his place- empty, and his plate unlaid.

I will miss meeting up my friends at the whim of a beach and thirsting for their company. I will miss the incessant laughter which rings within our group every time we meet, its infectious nature and the million pictures taken along with it. I will miss the sombre goodness of Veeru, the crazy immaturity of Jay, the practical sweetness of Dhanno, the crazy sensibility of Basanti, the shy but persistent laughter of Rami Kaki. I will miss the assertive patience of Thakurain and ofcourse my presence in the group, Gabbar. Oh, if you are wondering where Radha is, then she is some unknown figure who keeps changing with the fancies of our Jay. And I will miss dhru's trigger happy stance on the digicam.

I will miss the not-so-surprise birthday celebrations with my cousins and my extended family at 12 in the night. I will miss watching movies late into the night with my Bhabhi, and my cousins. I will miss the small little meaningful gifts given to me on every small occasion by my Mami. I will miss the rigging and ragging between the uncles in the family. I will miss the over jealous uncle who looked into every accomplishment for some flaw.

I will miss working deep into the nights on futile projects. I will miss talking about the Indian market, the various advertisements, the funny ones, the intelligent ones with my mothers, brother and friends. I will miss watching my father switch on the Telly to watch the prime time serials. I will miss watching my father choke up when a character is tortured, dies, or gets emotional. I will miss sharing knowing grins with mom when he tries to hide his tears by coughing.

I will miss the wild assumptions of my father, the lists my mother makes, the ever ready to help nature of both. I will miss sitting on my huge dining table cross legged, while my mother fearfully waits for the Italian Marble she so loves to break beneath me. I will miss watching the sun set over the sea from our terrace. I will miss going up to my parent's room once in a while just to see its immaculate beauty. I will miss the view from their room and terrace, looking down to the other buildings and quaint green lane below. I will miss looking at my multi-hued red wall adorned with all my soft toys at the top. I will my library and the million books i have stashed inside. I will miss my collection of brick-bracks and stirrers collected from every place I've gone to.

I will miss my bathroom, my favorite place in the house. I will miss my million shampoos and conditioners and I will miss my handsome red grills. I will miss walking into my old ancient building, creaky lift and up to my grand huge door. I will miss spending countless hours at my laptop, guarding it more fiercely than my own life. I will miss sneaking off for hours to finish the current novel at my hand. I will miss my friends dropping in and then eating steaming hot nashtas my mom would make for the entire jingband. I will miss dreaming about everything and anything. The most weirdest of dreams and the most real of them at my many-layered and over-cushioned bed.

I will miss my books, my room, my home, my family, my friends, the togetherness. I will miss my life. Here.

I will miss it all. And I will come back to it all. And more.