I took one look at his face, and immediately got the impression that it seemed familiar...
The more he spoke,with his animated expressions and smart ,curious eyes, the more i was ascertained of it;
We have certainly met , i don't know where,but we did....some time, in the distant past.
''Excuse me, sir, but have we met before ?''
I never let such thoughts dwell in my mind long.
He turned slightly, and carefully examined my face; ''..............I don't think so; it's possible though''
''I believe we did, I do remember you; you told me about your life before coming here; how you spent your youth in various countries and learnt so many languages", and I went on telling him all the details i could summon,"It wasn't anytime soon, but i still remember all of it''
I was surprised myself at my detailed recollection of someone else's affairs; for i don't even remember the trivialities of my own life to begin with;
I recounted what he told me before in a vain attempt to convince him, though i knew it was very forward of me, and quite unseemly in my position, but it didn't matter much, for if he didn't remember, he shall remain a stranger with a null opinion of me ,and we will shortly part anyway.
I could see signs of astonishment on his face, though; partly because he couldn't have possibly told all these details to a random stranger; but mainly, i divined, because if he couldn't remember our encounter, then it must have happened long ago; which makes it even unbelievable for me to remember with such accuracy.
"that's all true........how is that possible", he said with evident surprise, "though I still...don't recognize you, pardon"
He kept staring at my face, carefully, though astonishment turned to a sort of deep contemplation, with a tinge of embarrassment.
I said it was fine and dropped the subject ;I didn't really care if he remembered or not ,as i didn't tell him so with a certain objective in mind; i just wanted to let him know....and i knew well that he wouldn't remember me anyway; for not many people have my weird symbolic memory after all ...
I don't remember voices, see, i don't remember names, nor faces in particular; but i remember impressions :
this person have made such a memorable impression on me the first time; it's his vibe that remained printed in my memory; and i could recall it within the first few moments of our second meeting, the way the smell of a certain rose can tell you from which mountain it was plucked.
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Dear stranger, whose name i don't recall, and which i have no need to inquire about, I remembered you because you were the first person that told me that i'm beautiful.
Not "cute",not "fine", not "attractive", but "beautiful" ; as if you took a peak at my soul before looking at its external projection -the hidden lump that was so inscrutable to me at the time, so bewildering ,confusing,though intriguing in its own way, and then described it as ''beautiful'' to sum it all.
I was caught off guard, you know, I realize that i'm okay looking and that a number of people might think so as well, not to sound like a diva or anything; but rarely ,if ever, does anyone ventures to tell me that directly, in a casual, non-flirtatious way, as if you were mentioning a random observation about the weather :
"............It's because you are beautiful, ma sha Allah"
Who would forget such words, articulated nonchalantly, and without any ulterior motives behind them ? words said not to impress me particularly-though they did, nor make me feel better as a form of courteousness, but simply to let me know, to communicate to me,out of perspicuous candidness, a random thought that passed your mind, and without the remotest evidence of any sort of designs to be carried off after,as opposed to most of the people that abuse this compliment...
Dear stranger, It doesn't matter if we don't meet again, for the value of a poetic encounter lies in it's non recurrence, the utter impossibility of its happening again. Only then does every word articulated remain precious, and every second have a special significance.
Batushka, you made me feel accepted, deeply understood, you taught me to love myself, then left off, like a cloud hasting to join its sisters in the distant horizon.
Oh,how i longed to tell you all this. But it is of no consequence, for, after all, we shan't meet again. We shan't meet again, but i thank you, and I shall carry you in my heart, I shall remember you.
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When it was time to leave ,he suddenly turned and said; ".....I remember you now !",with a wide smile.''it happened long time ago; you have an insane memory !''
I don't know if he truly did, or that he thought that it would be a nice gesture to pretend so, but something tells me,the way his eyes smiled, they way they shone ,that he remembered. Because they shone the same way the first time we met.
Funny, this life.
A stranger can say,with the utmost carelessness, on a random account when you are feeling that life hasn't been kind to you and that you need to get away from it all, at the time you felt suffocated with the world's obliviousness- they can just say one thing, the one thing that you have been longing to hear for so long.
"I remember you"
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