It’s been a week now- seven long days since she had sore throat; seven days since she had flu. It has been seven days she has been asking why life presents such occasions.
It’s been seven days since she saw him last. She saw him from distance in that foggy morning; she found him standing just in front of her office. Yes, it was him, so unmistakably him! And it’s been seven years since she first saw him.
And it’s been seven days she is living in daze (this has nothing to do with foggy mornings, though!).
She thinks aloud in the middle of a busy day in her new office space, a dark (read no sunlight) room which she turned into a lovely work-station (thanks to her sense of harmony and creative ideas) which is doing rounds in her office building (that landmark building everyone wants to get into) and making a few colleagues to land up for inspection (or for inspiration, who knows?). And in her new husky voice (thanks to that recent flu she had) she ponders (as she discusses with another friend) whether finding him at her office gate was a coincidence or part of some plan. And more she thinks about it more surprised she gets.
Her mind laden in nostalgia and emotion takes her to the time when she would plan a rendezvous with him when one such was unthinkable and she would silently long for a meeting. And now, when a surprise meeting is taking place there is no splash of emotion…how things change, how we change….And she pinches herself.
Yes, you can’t act here, there are certain things which are spontaneous and they cannot be forced upon. There are certain things which are mutual and cannot be felt otherwise. And there are times one just forgets to respond. And she learnt that a week ago in that foggy morning in front of that pathway strewn with lilies and tulips.
Frozen mind and foggy vision.
It’s been seven days since. Seven days. Seven is such a mysterious number, oops…
It’s been seven days since she saw him last. She saw him from distance in that foggy morning; she found him standing just in front of her office. Yes, it was him, so unmistakably him! And it’s been seven years since she first saw him.
And it’s been seven days she is living in daze (this has nothing to do with foggy mornings, though!).
She thinks aloud in the middle of a busy day in her new office space, a dark (read no sunlight) room which she turned into a lovely work-station (thanks to her sense of harmony and creative ideas) which is doing rounds in her office building (that landmark building everyone wants to get into) and making a few colleagues to land up for inspection (or for inspiration, who knows?). And in her new husky voice (thanks to that recent flu she had) she ponders (as she discusses with another friend) whether finding him at her office gate was a coincidence or part of some plan. And more she thinks about it more surprised she gets.
Her mind laden in nostalgia and emotion takes her to the time when she would plan a rendezvous with him when one such was unthinkable and she would silently long for a meeting. And now, when a surprise meeting is taking place there is no splash of emotion…how things change, how we change….And she pinches herself.
Yes, you can’t act here, there are certain things which are spontaneous and they cannot be forced upon. There are certain things which are mutual and cannot be felt otherwise. And there are times one just forgets to respond. And she learnt that a week ago in that foggy morning in front of that pathway strewn with lilies and tulips.
Frozen mind and foggy vision.
It’s been seven days since. Seven days. Seven is such a mysterious number, oops…
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