Saturday, 8 November 2014

I Think I'm Done Looking

Winter crept up on us with a slow slither, catching us unaware and unprepared. The calendar had undoubtedly issued warnings and announced the arrival of a new month, but I find that we tend to forget each year that seasons change; summer is not perpetual, and the rains don't last forever. We forget that November mornings can be chilly, because we got too used to the sticky swelter that October presented to us every day.
Our lives were running on parallel train tracks, so to speak, and we were oblivious of the fact that a certain magic was waiting to happen. I have always despised the monsoon; there is nothing appealing about cloudy skies and muddy roads to me, and I had never before experienced anything remarkably joyous or memorable in those random months that seem to be silently sandwiched into the year for no good reason.
But this year, August decided to award me with an exceptional kindness. A friendship grew out of what seemed like a dry arid land devoid of fertility, and September added more flavour to the brew, making both of us believe that an irreversible change had just occurred that had tattooed an indelible heart on our brains. How people meet, and how their lives together pan out is in nobody's hands, but we were both grateful and supremely glad to have found each other.

We stood, hand in hand, on that windy winter morning, looking at each other and sipping on our coffee with a certain contentment that only comes when you're done hunting for any deeper meaning to your life. Time was flying with a manic acceleration and yet neither of us could really feel the inertia. It felt like we were cruising along, together, to a shared destination that would house our dreams and desires.
I wondered what the next winter would bring to me, and to us. Where would we be? What would we be doing? What would we be looking like?
Somehow, the answers to these questions didn't seem relevant to me. As long as we were together, it would be fine. It would be perfect.

No comments:

Post a Comment