I search for you...

I search for you.

In this lane of Dhaka, in that alley. On pitch-black streets, in tea cups at roadside stalls, I search for you.
In the hazy glow of neon lights, in each drop of sudden-rushing rain, in dust swirling through the air, I search for you.

I search for you in the solitude of that road where you once stood at the bend and promised, beloved, you would never leave. I search for you, my love, at that very corner where we stood face to face as you walked away, never to return, promising but never keeping your word.

Eleven years have passed today, you have not come. Perhaps after eleven more years you will return. Perhaps one day you will come running breathlessly, plant half a kiss on my forehead and say, "Here, I've come back! Now come, let's go home."

Or perhaps even after eleven more years you will never return along that path, the path you were meant to take back to me. Perhaps eleven thousand years will pass, and you will never return.

So I too will never leave this city. When you come back, I will be waiting.