Between the two hands of clock ……


The crowd in the metro seems like a different world altogether!  Tough I stand right in the middle feels like no one can see me and I really don’t care if people exist. The time stops and I see no one and I hear no one but only him.

He kept staring at my average face as if I landed from some fairy land. I wonder looking in his fluent and dark eyes what makes him admire me so much and what is that connection that makes him love me insanely despite knowing the chaos in me. Every time he holds me strange images wrap me and stories hidden in forgotten lives pay a visit.

Our  own scattered bits of life haunt us endlessly even when conscious,  yet he manages to drift and pulls me in his own dark world whispering that we shall find the glowing day breaking the circles of shadowy night . As the glass of time is breaking for someone I cherish making me long to drown forever, he comes with another lost incomplete story in his eyes and warm hug that forces me to once again  splash the colors in my colorless life.

I stand between the two hands of clock and await that moment which is yet to unfold the purpose of my existence. Every time I am about to touch the reality Life yells at me “Wake up lady, It was just a dream!”


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