Breathing Your Memory Alive !!

Allow the soul to meet.

8/28/20252 min read

With Every Breath, I Remember You

Today, beneath the pale glow of fluorescent office lights, I press my thumb to WhatsApp and the tremor in my heart surfaces. I drafted these words two days ago, hoping to refine them into something beautiful. But no polish can hide the raw truth: I only stop remembering you when I stop breathing.

An Unending Echo

There’s a relentless refrain in my mind—where are you, are you smiling, do you still think of me?

Even in the frenzy of meetings and phone calls, your name rises up like a whispered tide. I hunt for a moment of peace when you might slip my thoughts, but silence cracks and you slip back in, softer than a sigh, fiercer than a storm.

The Weight of Distance

I haven’t seen you for days, and every tick of the clock feels like an absence too heavy for my chest.

I pleaded with you to update your WhatsApp photo this year—you never did—but still, I scroll through our memories as if hoping for a new one. I tried WeChat, QQ, Weibo—only to be shut out by borders and politics. Each denied login is another reminder of how far apart we’ve grown, yet you waltz through my mind with effortless grace.

Science and the Heart

They say forgetting takes three years, but no science can chart the map of a soul entwined with another.

Forgetting implies a moment of release, a pause in remembrance. I have never known such mercy. My heart still beats in sync with your memory, and every pulse insists I never let go.

Shrines of Memory

I find you in every corner of my day:

- Outside the dry fruits shop, because you like, kidney-shaped cashew and laughed when its flavor surprised you.

- Beneath the neon halo of KFC on our lazy Sunday dates, the scent of chicken still lingers in my senses.

- Inside Inorbit Mall’s corridors, where our shadows once danced along mirrored walls.

- Along Towli Chowki’s silent road—the one I now avoid out of both grief and reverence.

- In the rumpled sheets of our bed, where I cling to the ghost of your embrace each night.

Each scene is a shrine to you, and I worship at its altar with aching devotion.

You are in every breath I take—my love, my anger, my laughter, and my tears.

You linger in the scent of my clothes; in the way my eyes trace the curve of an empty room. You live in my heartbeat, a steady drum that refuses to let you fade. The only thing missing is your physical self. Someday, I hope our souls will reunite beyond the limits of flesh and blood.

I don’t remember you because for that I need forgetting you and that would be like erasing my own existence.

A Quiet Hope

Maybe one day I’ll learn to cradle your memory like a flickering candle—allowing its light to soothe instead of scorch.

Until then, I will continue to breathe you in, grateful for each inhale that reminds me of your name. And when I exhale, I send my love out into the distance, hoping it finds its way back to you.