It was a windy day, not according to the weather forecast department, but she had sensed the chill that morning, the one which only cold winds from a far off place could blow into the city. There was always something about things that have felt distant before they happen. They are predictable, and yet unmanageable. They sweep you unexpectedly into rains, but they eventually bribe you with a rainbow. She tried to gauge the weight of her backpack, though the last time she checked there was a small hole in it,she was glad her umbrella was somewhere in. ' I' m prepared for everything', she thought. She was walking towards the bridge, she knew it would be a perfect picture to take when the sun is midway through the sky. As always, it was going to be a long wait.
It is supposed to grow brighter as afternoon approaches; but things seldom go your way. And the pain goes away only after you have well accepted that it will. But the problem is you never accept it will before it has gone. The clouds were fast crossing over to her side of the sky. But she now knew she had all that was needed. He had walked in her life and seemed to be made of every bits and pieces she had seperately, and secretly designed in her dreams. Such people are not meant to be lost. They will be in the tones of your life, in the tunes of your voice. They will become your umbrella against every heat. Against every rain and the shattering wind. Just as it began pouring,she looked up at the hole on the black strip. The sky, with the dark clouds, was black too, and it almost melted in. Though there is nothing like perfection, she realised that it was all about the faults being in right places. Where they disappeared into the greater picture. It is about their not mattering. And even with the hole there, the rest of her umbrella's fabric was something that didn't compromise. Something that she couldn't throw away. It would be always there for her. Against every heat. Against every rain and the shattering wind.
It is supposed to grow brighter as afternoon approaches; but things seldom go your way. And the pain goes away only after you have well accepted that it will. But the problem is you never accept it will before it has gone. The clouds were fast crossing over to her side of the sky. But she now knew she had all that was needed. He had walked in her life and seemed to be made of every bits and pieces she had seperately, and secretly designed in her dreams. Such people are not meant to be lost. They will be in the tones of your life, in the tunes of your voice. They will become your umbrella against every heat. Against every rain and the shattering wind. Just as it began pouring,she looked up at the hole on the black strip. The sky, with the dark clouds, was black too, and it almost melted in. Though there is nothing like perfection, she realised that it was all about the faults being in right places. Where they disappeared into the greater picture. It is about their not mattering. And even with the hole there, the rest of her umbrella's fabric was something that didn't compromise. Something that she couldn't throw away. It would be always there for her. Against every heat. Against every rain and the shattering wind.
