I wonder they’ll remember their life here.
The people. The smells. The pieces of culture that sneak their way in to our daily lives.
The rickshaws. The street dogs. The bumpy roads.
The never ending flights. The temples. The beaches.
The heat and the rains. The dust and the dirt.
The first mangoes of the season.
Or perhaps it will remain buried underneath her thoughts.
Like an urban legend waiting to be proven.
As if it never happened at all.