She Was Like That!

 

Never before had I seen someone look so happy when the sky turned grey. When everyone else in office would curse the rains and close their windows, she would open her windows a little more, draw the curtains and longingly look outside, as if the rains would bring her lover along and reduce the kilometres that stretched out between them.

She laughed at the drop of a hat, sometimes she’d forget what she was laughing about and then burst out into a fresh bout of laughter for having forgotten the joke. There were times when I would glare at her, chide her for behaving like a baby that too at her workplace, where she was supposed to do nothing other than work.

She could never be confined in a cubicle though. The free spirit that she was, her seat was next to mine, but she would always be found sharing a laugh with the head of another team or helping one of us who was having some technical problems. But that did not mean that her share of work was ever compromised, she was close to being perfect and our boss always had high praise for her.

 

At the end of a long day, she would look like a wilted flower, all her energy drained out. Not because of work or pressure, but because she had to be confined in one place for a few hours. She was like that, a spirit born to fly. You could tame her, tie her down and tell her not to leave, and then she wouldn’t. This, at the cost of having to sacrifice her spirit, but she did, over and over again, for the people she loved, so that they would smile without worry causing creases on their forehead.

When somebody played songs in the office, she would sing along. Though she had a decent voice, she would purposefully sing out of tune and in a croaky voice so that the others around her would laugh a little more. She didn’t mind if people laughed at her, all she wanted was us to smile and be happy.

She was like that.

Image Courtesy: favim.com

 

Imagine that you are in a room full of people you like and there is good food and the general atmosphere is cheerful. Once she leaves the room, it suddenly begins to feel like the room is empty, like it is just you and silence and an empty room.

Words can never do justice to the person she is. But she never knew what I thought of her, ever. No I would never tell her. that is not the sort of person I am. On her last day when she looked into my eyes as if searching for some of my unspoken emotions, I made sure she never saw what I hid from her all through the last 9 months.

How is it possible to not love someone like her!

 

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Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.

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