You were crossing the road with an umbrella in one hand, and a bag in the other. I thought to myself all bengali men who go to the market on rainy sunday mornings must look like you. And you walked through the rain and smiled at me while i sat at our same coffee shop. The same place when you first held my hand and said yeah..its a short crop but it doesnt look bad, I had to wax my hands and you did not mind at all, i was too embarrassed and was trying to keep my hands from trembling.It was the same place at sunset, you sat smugly smiling back at everyone who looked at the hickie on your neck, while i was trying to look away from the questioning glances that they all threw back at me. Yes it was me, who else you morons!I went there today..and thought of you. The same place, the same sunset, the same road and there were a few couples there lost in each other, and i sat waiting.. this time only for the coffee.