In which I demonstrate my dismal knowledge of the sciences

Q. How long does it take to get by a day?

A. 24 hours. It's a ridiculously easy calculation.
(I wonder. Why does time hang so heavy then?)

Q. How do you define sight?

A. Light is reflected in to the eyes by any object coming within your field of vision. That is how one sees things.
(Are you sure? Why do I seem to see you everywhere then? Even when we are apart?)

Q. Will you be able to hear me whenever I call?

A. That depends. Sound waves travel to about 340 metres in a second. So if the distance between you and me is too much I won't.
(Don't lie. I called out to you last night and you weren't even around. You heard.)

Q. How far can one travel in 2 days?

A. Halfway across the world. Easily.
(Really? But I thought home was so much closer.)

Q. What is the measure of love?

A. Irrelevant question. Next?

Sigh! No wonder my parents never dreamt of a career in medicine or engineering for me...

A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and what have you?

I have been missing my friend River badly for the last couple of days. And Sunshine. And Tall. And Maddy. And Pert. I want to meet them all, talk to them in exactly the same way we used to, years back when all of us still stayed in the same city and still looked to each other for company. I want to go for those routine long walks with River round and round the college building, I want to talk endlessly with Sunshine over the phone about sundry nonsense, call up Pert and have her fussing over me about my apparent timidity, go for coffee-breaks with Tall and Maddy and exchange gossip.

In short, I want a slice of my old life back.

Lots of things change with time. Relationships, I guess, are the foremost on the list. Pert has moved to Yankee-Doodle Land and from the look of it, won't come back, River's still where we left her, waiting I presume, for us to go back and pick up the rather loose pieces, Sunshine, is happy in her little cocoon of home and family, Maddy is living it up in a new city, and Tall is back where she belongs. All of us talk sparingly. We know what's happening in each other's life. About the upheavals and the small joys and the calamities and the little blessings that make up our days after we have moved on. We don't talk of loneliness and longing or missing each other. We presume we are there if the other person is to reach out and look for a friend.

But what happens when we don't reach out, but still need the friendly shoulder? What happens when I think of you and ache for you to miss me too in just the same way, but I don't tell you so amidst the rush of inanities we exchange everytime we gab on the phone?

I am very happy with my present life. Happy but not contented, because it still has enough space to fit in the old life. And all the marriages and babies and new cities and new continents and new jobs in this world won't change that.

I have the space you need. Can I invade a bit of yours?