To a city of lost love on the banks of lost river

What is it that makes a city? The grand gestures of love? The big shiny bungalows with small people? The touristy spots which leave a city tired?

No It’s the everyday people.

The flower vendor who knows that you would end up picking yellow flowers eventually,

The smiling boy in red uniform at a café you go to write who waits for your order when you go through the menu and always always order the same latte.

The guard with grandmother eyes who smiles when you go for your evening run,

The girl at traffic signal with big teethy smile with a front tooth missing

The doctor who has been asking the same question for months whenever he sees you  ‘are you feeling better?’ when it has been the ages you visited him

The rickshaw stand teeming with people, the mithai shop always crowded with people you make a mental note to visit, the wooden bridge over a canal you are too busy to even notice because you are checking your phone, the temple with orange walls you pass by everyday, the abandoned house with wildflowers around, the sunsets that come often in your insta story, the neglected structures you wish you could do something about.

These everyday nameless people bring upon a smile on your face when the same city becomes harsh, they make any city worth living.

A city that grows on you through scattered moments that never fit into a jigsaw puzzle to complete, a city that is meant to be incomplete, a city that tells you why the rush to be complete.

Agra- To a city of longing, disguised intentions and overrated love, it’s the everyday kindness that matters. Its these little moments that pass by make it worth living every single day.

Until we meet again like a long lost love!

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