Dear regrettably almost, I found you on tinder. You were the kind of person who would perhaps judge me for ever having used tinder, if you weren't a user as well. Anyway, I deleted the account on pilot day itself, but strangely enough, we parted on a sweet note, an acquaintance of an hour and me with your number. A month later, I also had the good memory to leave you a message on WhatsApp. That was alien for me. That was weird for me. That was unusual for me. But I'm glad I ever did that. You replied. You got back to me. We were thrilled and unwittingly holding on to the bigger play of the universe, something along the lines of destiny itself. We had fun. Normal fun. Fun about nerdy stuff. Dissing political agendas and bonding over memes. Loving good old and ever evolving Bollywood. It was fun while it lasted. We knew it wouldn't work out eventually. I shifted to Delhi. You stayed in our own crooked but young, Kolkata. But what if I had consented to that date? Met you in a black dress and bold lips and loose curls? You, with your slight good paunch, a full sleeve denim shirt and old school men's shoes? We could have dissed Tinder to our heart's content. That's what. To, A Certain Almost (2) There are too many almosts to keep a count of, really. Yes? #toacertainalmost #yqbaba #yqtales #tinderdiaries #yourquote #love #almosttime #poetsofinstagram
