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I was sitting on the couch flipping through a book when someone knocked the door hardly. I starred at the door, it was Katherine. She went through her handbag several times and knocked again. “Oh, she must have lost her Key card  I spoke to myself and opened the door. I smiled, briefly, at the thought of her saying “Thank you David!” No, she didn't speak; she vowed with a withering smile and walked toward the far corner in the library. Her face was clouded, her misty eyes hardly blink, and she signs heavily in pain. I bit my lips and sat on the couch again. After a while I heard a weeping sound. Knowing that it was Katherine, I stood silent for few moments spying her moves. She broke up with her boyfriend, Jackson, few days ago.

I could no longer hold myself back, so I went near her and asked if there was anything wrong. She shook her head and remained very silent. Her lips muted with pain and her tongue sealed with sorrow. Maybe she couldn't gather her vast thoughts into few words to utter. Maybe her intense sadness cannot be pacified through words. Tears roll down through her face like drops of dew falling from the petals of the flower when they are disturbed by the wind. I couldn't help but keep standing near her, puzzled with hundreds of thoughts running in my mind. Few minutes later she wiped off her tears and asked if I could leave her alone for some time, with her apologetic look.

On my way back to my room I had a long thought of her. I shut all thoughts of her and tune to the music on my iPod but after sometime it came again at the play of a sad song ("David!" she might ask with her pleading eyes). I felt so pity on her and couldn't move forward. So I went back to her and asked for a walk, thinking that it might ease her heavy heart. Soon the silence became music; her muteness vanished as we stroll through the Park. She opened her lips and said “I use to come here with Jack!” She did in such a care that when she spoke his name, Jackson or Jack as she calls him, she sighed and paused and became soft at the story of him that followed. He was her first love, her first love that had come and gone. We strolled until the darkness hides the trees and flowers and see nothing but the shadows when the beam of light rays fall on us. 

Have a nice week ahead!


Karen Lange said...

Sometimes people just need to talk. I am glad you were there to listen to her. That must have been a relief and an encouragement to her.

Dorji Penjor said...

thank you Karen by dropping by.. please visit again..

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