She reminds me of someone close to me. I just can’t recollect who. I’m unable to sketch her appearance in words. Let me try even if it’s at the risk of being castrated by the Almighty for the sheer injustice. She looked carefree. Not the fun kinds or in the normal sense of the word. Yeah, I’m sure. She doesn’t care at all. Those sweeping footsteps, misty dark eyes, moist and thick lips they all remained composed as opposed to her untied hair. It seemed like her hair had taken the beating of a dry autumn. But those locks became ‘butcher of men’ with the whistle of a breeze. She was dressed a bit shoddy. The loose fitting long black dress was too woeful to exist. Her body expressed distress and tribulation. What pained more was to see the teasing sadness on her face. She was not crying, but her eyes looked as though she might.
Have I seen her before? I’m unable to confirm but maybe I have. An unexplained Déjà filled my mind. She is leaning onto her right, hand placed on her bulky brown leather bag. Her head is resting on her right palm. Her lips are curled into something like a smile, which is in dire contrast with the rest of her. No she isn’t smiling. She looks sad. I reckon, gloomy is the right expression.
Just when she had my heart on a string, a hoarse voice shook me up. I recollect that boring baritone. After all I’ve been hearing it for a decade and half. It was my friend and travel mate. He yelled at me to board an overcrowded bus for that was the only hope for us to reach our destination. I looked at her with a half hope that she will get up, follow me into the bus and sit next to me. She doesn’t move at all. I bid the beautiful stranger a painful Goodbye. Just then I was reminded of a writing on someone’s sepulchre, “Delight comes to us in dreams only”.
How True!!!
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