Of Piercing and Tattoos

When I close my eyes I get flooded with memories of us. I have been really trying to read till I am exhausted, so that I can fall asleep without feeling so overwhelmed with loss. So far, pretty unsuccessful.

Yesterday, I was remembering how we went to Bombay from Pune together on a bus. We stayed with Tapur, Tupur, got wrong directions when we wanted to go to town. The cops questioned us, and we had to pay a fine. We really wanted a map to see Bombay, and Betoo's friend drew us a triangle and said that was the only map we needed. Idiot. But we were successful, we found a map, and we travelled around Bombay.

Do you remember getting our noses pierced in Bandra, around the shopping area? We both got it on the wrong side for Hindu's. We were quite proud of it. I was very sad later when mine got infected.

Then we stayed in that terrible ram-shackled apartment in Colaba with some friends of yours? It was so bloody hot and I think there was only one fan and it was dirty as hell. We would NEVER do that now. Oh youth!

I want to get your tattoo, to mark your passage. I am envious of those who believe in god and souls and such. I want to but I really don't. We searched for so long for that scorpion tattoo of yours. We made so many jokes about the intellectual scorpion. Then I held your hand as you got the tattoo at Adorned. We got a drink before to steel ourselves to the pain. You were pretty brave about it.

Even if I couldn't hold on to you, I want that tattoo to live, as a permanent memory of what is a permanent friendship.

I love you and miss you dearly.