The 12th day

                                        

A girl laughed at a joke. An idealist fumed at some injustice. Some one started singing.
She isn’t there. Not yet. He felt all alone. Abandoned in the crowd.
He stood in the room. Watching all the people. Conversations. Idiosyncrasies. Provocations.
He knew what united all of them… Loneliness. They were all trying to pretend that these meetings somehow can substitute for life.
She used to say-‘The moment we lose faith in happy endings, we will stop coming here.’
Did she lose faith? He wondered. She hadn’t turned up for the last twelve days.
A friend winked at him. He ignored it. Someone was waving a big flag as if his life depended on it. Some one was writing a phone number on the wall in big red strokes. But nothing held his interest any more. Not even the new faces with pretty names.
The friend nudged him twice. He sat still. Finally the friend went away, fuming.
He felt old. The world was becoming too repetitive. Even the heart breaks are being compared with the severity of the older ones now. And the worst part is that he didn’t even know where she lived. ‘Not yet’- she used to say whenever he talked about it.
He got up and logged off from the chat room.
He thought-May be she would come tomorrow. May be tomorrow she would sit beside him with a mischievous smile. And would say- ‘Now tell me. Is thirteen lucky or unlucky?’

Photo by funkyfork

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