I miss those days.

I miss my country. I spent first 21 years of my life there. Memories built with parents, first girl I liked who tied a rakhi on my hand, to signify that I am only her brother and nothing more. It’s okay, her choice and I respect that,no problem at all.
I played cricket on numerous playgrounds .
Movies watched just a night before exam.
Street food that always tasted better than fancy restaurants.That brawl when my friend decided to follow a girl he liked on her Kinetik and her male friends confronting my friend.Going on a ride around 2 a.m. with no destination in mind. Getting pulled over by a cop and me having to call my dad to rescue and my dad scares the cop by telling him he knows the deputy of the state and cop lets me go.
Bunking lectures of boring professors.
(like always, unfinished)


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