Some things, people and memories in life knock at your door when you are expecting them the least. When you are broken and discarded and living in despair someone just comes along from the most unusual places and changes everything. You don't have to look for that someone anywhere or find them in strangers, when you're destined to meet the right person everything in the world will make sense. Everything will fall in place. You will dress up just right and be at the right place at the right time, and everything shall happen just how it was meant to be and don't overthink, don't spend time thinking what could have happened differently that you thought was terribly wrong, sometimes such wrongs are better than most rights.
She was thinking about all this and making entries in her journal, the brown leather diary with handmade sheets that look ages old and have so much character that every word dropped on the surface of those pages becomes poetry. Every leaf drawn on the sheets becomes art and every moment shared, a memory. This morning she was smiling to herself about every little thing, called everyone she could, of course didn't tell the reason behind that inexplicable happiness and lightness of foot to all but surely talked to everyone who mattered. She wanted to stand on the balcony of her fourth floor apartment and shout it out loud to the world that she was happy. It was that kind of day when she wanted to watch the pigeons on the terrace across hers, wanted to sit by the glass window as it rained and read all the beautiful stories that she could find. She could not contain the abundance of emotions. She wanted to fly high or just touch the sky. It was finally that day.
He was tired from the day's work and exhausted by the travel that he had to make and by the idea that this travel would continue to persist for the next 6 months, to say the least. He was tired but not cranky, like the public transport usually makes him. He was happy in a strange way. He didn't know why is the work, the travel, the weather, not irritating him more. He wondered whether he has grown up or something else. Couldn't really figure out what it was until he reached home and saw the date and time flashing on the TV screen and then he smiled to himself. His body was rejuvenated by a strange sense of happiness. He was surprised that all this while subconsciously he knew . He ate his food and longed to go out to the phone booth to make the desired call. He began to miss her like never before. Began to write a letter but realised he wanted a swifter remedy to aid his urge, a point of contact. He decided to go for the phone call. He waited and waited till it was time. Time to unleash his happy soul and time to hear her voice. He made the call.
She was sitting beside the telephone since an hour waiting to hear him. She had never waited to hear the annoying ring tone of her telephone like she did now. She wanted to forget her self and the world as she waited for it to ring. And it did. She took less than a second to pick it up and said the words he was dying to hear, he reciprocated but that was followed by a satisfying silence. Their voices had reached each other, it had happened. Her voice had touched his soul, had purged the urge to feel her, be near her and this silence was worth everything they owned. She began talking like they would any other day, until suddenly while she was engrossed in narrating the millions of little stories that she had in store to tell him, he stopped and said, "It has been a year". She smiled, and said "I know"
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She was thinking about all this and making entries in her journal, the brown leather diary with handmade sheets that look ages old and have so much character that every word dropped on the surface of those pages becomes poetry. Every leaf drawn on the sheets becomes art and every moment shared, a memory. This morning she was smiling to herself about every little thing, called everyone she could, of course didn't tell the reason behind that inexplicable happiness and lightness of foot to all but surely talked to everyone who mattered. She wanted to stand on the balcony of her fourth floor apartment and shout it out loud to the world that she was happy. It was that kind of day when she wanted to watch the pigeons on the terrace across hers, wanted to sit by the glass window as it rained and read all the beautiful stories that she could find. She could not contain the abundance of emotions. She wanted to fly high or just touch the sky. It was finally that day.
He was tired from the day's work and exhausted by the travel that he had to make and by the idea that this travel would continue to persist for the next 6 months, to say the least. He was tired but not cranky, like the public transport usually makes him. He was happy in a strange way. He didn't know why is the work, the travel, the weather, not irritating him more. He wondered whether he has grown up or something else. Couldn't really figure out what it was until he reached home and saw the date and time flashing on the TV screen and then he smiled to himself. His body was rejuvenated by a strange sense of happiness. He was surprised that all this while subconsciously he knew . He ate his food and longed to go out to the phone booth to make the desired call. He began to miss her like never before. Began to write a letter but realised he wanted a swifter remedy to aid his urge, a point of contact. He decided to go for the phone call. He waited and waited till it was time. Time to unleash his happy soul and time to hear her voice. He made the call.
She was sitting beside the telephone since an hour waiting to hear him. She had never waited to hear the annoying ring tone of her telephone like she did now. She wanted to forget her self and the world as she waited for it to ring. And it did. She took less than a second to pick it up and said the words he was dying to hear, he reciprocated but that was followed by a satisfying silence. Their voices had reached each other, it had happened. Her voice had touched his soul, had purged the urge to feel her, be near her and this silence was worth everything they owned. She began talking like they would any other day, until suddenly while she was engrossed in narrating the millions of little stories that she had in store to tell him, he stopped and said, "It has been a year". She smiled, and said "I know"
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