“Won’t you give me one last hug, for old time’s sake?” , She asked softly , self consciously.
He looked up from the pile of papers in front of him, surprised at the unusual request and considering that they had hardly been on speaking terms over the past year, let alone sharing even a hint of any physical intimacy.
Their flat looked strange and barren with all the framed photographs missing from the walls and shelves of the living room. They had taken a conscious decision to stow away all memories from their past sixteen years and concentrate on their futures instead.
It was exactly midnight when the last rain of the year came knocking unannounced at the train window. He suddenly realized that the moon too had disappeared somewhere in the dark skies, leaving him at the mercy of the lonely world around him, which had slipped into a silent rhythm comprising of the uniform beat of the moving train cutting through the tranquillity of the moist darkness of central India and the (now) large droplets lashing tangentially at the window sill, bouncing on them, and landing on his face.
As a child you tend to have quite a lot of dreams.
Some of them never come true (For Eg. “I want to marry Sridevi when I grow up”), while others do come true, and then turn into nightmares
.Let me tell you about one of my primary mission statements from the time when I used to be 9 years old , which was to fly (a lot) in airplanes. Those days, air travel was not as convenient or as affordable as it is today ( people generally had to sell off their ancestral homes to pay for a one way air ticket).
“Won’t you give me one last hug, for old time’s sake?” , She asked softly , self consciously.
It was exactly midnight when the last rain of the year came knocking unannounced at the train window. He suddenly realized that the moon too had disappeared somewhere in the dark skies, leaving him at the mercy of the lonely world around him, which had slipped into a silent rhythm comprising of the uniform beat of the moving train cutting through the tranquillity of the moist darkness of central India and the (now) large droplets lashing tangentially at the window sill, bouncing on them, and landing on his face.
As a child you tend to have quite a lot of dreams.
