How would people remember me?
As the girl with a mole on her lips?
The one who never failed to keep her kajal undone.
Maybe as the girl who was loud when she was expressing something unnecessary.
Or as the girl whose bob hair grew up to her shoulders over winter with signs of fringes by spring.
The girl who sang along with her ringtone when it played Penny Lane.
Probably as the girl who tried to hide her feminine moustache with her fingers when someone got close.
Or the one whose boots echoed-her only pair of brown knee length boots- as she walked over concrete.
The girl who loved travelling via public transport just to take in the chaos?
Or as the one who never finished reading Haruki Murakami's The elephant vanishes?
Would I be remembered as the girl who called herself an atheist but selfishly called out for God when she was in trouble?
How would you remember me?
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