Twenty third.

     Confabulations. She was lying wondering on the hospital bed, to fill in gaps in memory. By fabrication. No, but she was sure she had felt that strong emotional surge just before they hit the barricade. Was it for real? Or was it really a confabulation?
     However hard she tried to remember what he was saying or was going to say, she couldnt think of anything. Not even enough to fabricate the rest. When you are put into a fix, you start loving your original dull life. She never realised she had wanted him, because she never wanted to realise it.  But now, if he was about to confess his love, she was sure of her decision. It would be something she was since long been waiting for. It was enough to turn her world upside down.
     Usually there's a nurse standing near the patient when she regains consciousness, but that happens only in movies, she thought. She was desperately waiting for someone to enter. Someone who could tell her that he was as fine as she was. Even if the thing he was talking about before the crash was his dead dog. Even if it was about the bad weather. Even if it was about the recession. Even if she wasn't the girl he had fallen for. She would let him walk out of her life.
     She wanted the surge to be true. But there was so much risk in it. Risk, if she wasn't the one. Risk, even if she was the one. The one with no courage to take the risk. She rather wished he would walk back, smile at her and say it was nothing. Just a confabulation.

Twenty second.

     She watched the magician pull out exactly the same card he had told he will. There was that obvious smirk, the usual one, the one that cannot be forgotten.
     It was amazing to her, seeing how surprised people were, even when they already knew that the magician was going to be right. We are so accustomed to our ideas of happiness, she thought. We are able to surprise ourselves, even with the most expected of all things. And when it comes to pain, we don't know, for most of the times, the exact cause of all the hurt. And it feels good to know that others, at some point of time, have been through that too. As if it was just equally and justly distributed. As if you loved seeing people hurt. As if you have understood the mechanism of how the universe plays with you. You never will.
     You never will understand how and why things hurt. You will then keep on chasing 'things that last forever'. And eventually realise, that nothing ever might. It dwells upon you, to revel in today. As for the things left out here, the Afghanis rightly say, zendagi migzara.

Twenty first

You walk through the darkest of my secrets,
And say you've stumbled upon a beautiful heart;
You put up a bargain like never before,
When you ask for a smile, to hide all my flaws.
Meeting me in these entangled turns of life,
You change love enough, to fit in those knots.
You strike me first with the differences we share,
But you melt in me like we are meant to be;
The way it rains over the sea.