Just one dance (an unfinished story)
He was gone.
He had to. And if she knew it already what was this restlessness all about. For the tenth time she checked her wrist watch,
"9.15, he must have had his boarding pass by now." she thought.
Nothing was grabbing her attention today, nothing but he.
Still an hour to go before his flight takes off, she felt like calling him. And then negating her own thoughts she tried to concentrate on what was being taught in class.
But in vain, she could not help herself by denying. There was this restless ness prevailing which refrained her from concentrating in anything, let alone lecture.
Instead she texted him.
Yes, he was in the airport lounge at Karachi airport, waiting for his flight back home, back to madrid, back to ...... her?
What was her name again? ....Helen? ofcourse, how could she forget.
She threw her cellphone into her bag. I am not going to text or call him. Why should I ? Didn't I say Goodbye already, she thought.
The restlessness very slowly and gradually converted into sadness, unknown, unsaid, unexplained, sadness.
As if something deeply belonging to her was leaving with him. She didn't know then, only to find out later, it was her heart.
10.30 AM. his flight was scheduled, she was sensing the unfelt, seeing the unseen. watching him boarding his plane, sitting by the window , felt the jolts while his plane took off and then when she was checking on internet
if his flight landed smoothly , she actually landed down in madrid too.
She was in another world and another time. Never in her 21 years, she felt such overwhelming, overpowering feeling. An undeniable bond to someone she barely knew, someone whom she met for merely few minutes here and there. Someone who was nearly double her own age!
Back home, she fought with herself at being so insane and tried to sleep.
She knew it was a huge crush she will get over as soon as she would divert her attention to some other important matters of life. May be she was giving him too much of attention and thoughts, may be it was afterall her very own fault.
He had to. And if she knew it already what was this restlessness all about. For the tenth time she checked her wrist watch,
"9.15, he must have had his boarding pass by now." she thought.
Nothing was grabbing her attention today, nothing but he.
Still an hour to go before his flight takes off, she felt like calling him. And then negating her own thoughts she tried to concentrate on what was being taught in class.
But in vain, she could not help herself by denying. There was this restless ness prevailing which refrained her from concentrating in anything, let alone lecture.
Instead she texted him.
Yes, he was in the airport lounge at Karachi airport, waiting for his flight back home, back to madrid, back to ...... her?
What was her name again? ....Helen? ofcourse, how could she forget.
She threw her cellphone into her bag. I am not going to text or call him. Why should I ? Didn't I say Goodbye already, she thought.
The restlessness very slowly and gradually converted into sadness, unknown, unsaid, unexplained, sadness.
As if something deeply belonging to her was leaving with him. She didn't know then, only to find out later, it was her heart.
10.30 AM. his flight was scheduled, she was sensing the unfelt, seeing the unseen. watching him boarding his plane, sitting by the window , felt the jolts while his plane took off and then when she was checking on internet
if his flight landed smoothly , she actually landed down in madrid too.
She was in another world and another time. Never in her 21 years, she felt such overwhelming, overpowering feeling. An undeniable bond to someone she barely knew, someone whom she met for merely few minutes here and there. Someone who was nearly double her own age!
Back home, she fought with herself at being so insane and tried to sleep.
She knew it was a huge crush she will get over as soon as she would divert her attention to some other important matters of life. May be she was giving him too much of attention and thoughts, may be it was afterall her very own fault.
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