Rindu 1

I miss Malaysian sunsets.

How all the colors in the sky melt into an exploding gradient, an orange, pink and blue sorbet if you will. Contrasting colors entwining together as easily as my fingers with yours, whilst walking - at a pace so lax it is almost a waltz - down a road which you have welcomed me to call home. The days here dont end with sunsets. There is no dragged out period for comfort and contemplation with company and cuddles, no melting sky or smitten hearts. The birds don't fly across the horizon, because quite frankly, London pigeons are much too fat. No music blasting Thunder to remind me that just like the day, summer comes to an end, but even then its all beautiful. We were, beautiful.

No, here, there is sun up and sun down. When the day is done, it turns dark, and on the mostly, I am fingers in pockets and reflecting on the day Ive had. It is direct, focused - much like the student I aspire to become. Straight to the point, get it over and done with. I have worked to come to a city of workers, and with years of prayers, hopes and dreams in tow, I am grateful to be here, experiencing these sunset-less days. I am living my dream.

But sometimes I crave the Malayan sunsets, a time you call 'the golden hour.' I even miss the KL jams we got stuck in, the residue of sun on our faces, comfortable even in silence. We've sat in cars, cafes and couches together while the sun was bidding the sky adieu, all the while knowing that with every rolling sunset together, our goodbye was only going to be tougher. But for all the ease in this world, I would not give up the pleasure of witnessing the world transition from day to night with someone who transitioned from stranger to most treasured company, if it meant this would be any easier for me.

Love from London,

Mirr