Morning windows, empty cabin, just a single soul, walks in, sits by her desk, expectant of something new to happen and kaboom.
She saw the new update feature of whatsapp. With all her old abstract statuses gone, it was only stories that she could create and they too could last only for 24 hours.
She wrote stories which only rare ones could read because it’s only them she trusts with what she writes. She believes that only they can understand what she writes.
She winks at her screen, so many views, but no only really cared to know what she sobbingly wanted to convey. She’s perplexed. She’s confused. She’s puzzled.
Everything was happening like an eclipse in dark and glaring fast like a headlight. She was happy that everything seemed to be in place just like she wanted. But no, it was weird, she doesn’t know what to do with it yet. She’s scared. She’s afraid of losing things again. She’s frightened of being broken again.
Sahiba, I know what’s been through you. I get your nerves. You are my pulmonary that way, and let me be your lungs to oxygenate you.
Dhwani, ek raaz, your mystery.