The first time she said hello, I forgot what my name sounded like.
It was the first day of college and she was wearing a green hoodie even though it was a perfect summer day. The kind of day which is so common in books and stories, but very rare in real life. Her hair looked frizzy and I know that does not sound like a compliment but for her it was. She pulled it off and looked so beautiful to make even an atheist believe in God because nothing else could have created something so heavenly.
The distractions and voices in my head stopped. I couldn’t speak, only stare. Stare at this heavenly being who had decided to stand among us mortals and give us a glimpse of what heaven looked like.
We went out for a bite, we chatted up quite a bit. She was a poet, just like me. She loved quiet corners and dusty books just like I did, smelling those pages before someone else saw her because people just do not get that. And she looked out into the distance with longing as if she was travelling along the cosmos while simply sitting there. As if she were the whole universe and we were merely parts in this world which she'd created.
Till date, that was the only perfect afternoon I have had in my life. We spent the whole day together. And then, I never saw her again. I looked up the records, asked around but no one knew anything of her. Like the wind, here today, gone tomorrow.
I often think of her. Where she is, what she is doing and most importantly, does she also remember me?
I wonder if we will meet again years into the future and she will come up to me and whisper, “Hello” and I would once again forget what my name sounds like. ~ Rishabh Naresh Goel, The #Storytellers