What is living without hope?
It is, an artist without his art,
A painting without colours.
What is living without faith?
It is, a song without the tunes,
And dance without music.
What is life without belief?
It is a story without characters,
A story without words.
Oh, the robbed hope is back again,
The hope which I had always lived by,
The hope which my spirit held so dear,
It has come out of its hidings.
In the process of running away from myself which ostensibly wasn’t possible at all, I found myself. I found the girl who used to smile off any troubles that crossed the threshold of her way, who was audacious no matter what, who had fabricated her own way and had to tread on that path.
I was sitting on the bed of my friend’s room which as usual was unmade and stuffed with all kinds of things from cookies to a phone charger and from a bottle of water to clothes and any unwanted accessories. My phone had hooked me up just when my friend barged in with the news of her friends coming over. The usual me was uncomfortable in front of these new people and was trying to keep myself busy over the uninteresting Whatsapp conversations.
It wasn’t until then that I realised that one of her friend was kind of cute (well, too cute for that matter ;-)) having the smile that most men usually do not have and a voice that can literally sway you around and I couldn’t help smiling at him. But then that’s all a dumb person like me could do and in no time I was hearing ‘bu bye’s’.
Well, for the next two days I kept listening about him from my blabbering friend and he probably would have heard about me but the promised coffee remained un-drunk. So sometimes it’s just the way it is, isn’t it? I didn’t get to know him much but my friends mouth wasn’t exhausted once from fawning him and I think I can safely say he is a pleasant man who surely deserves a lot more than he thinks fit for himself. Well, an intelligent brain with the combination of his charm isn’t only sporadic but surely deserves a rising star.
It is in his story that I realised that everyone has his own ‘story’ own set of problems and if there isn’t any apt solution for it, let things just flow their way. If a star has fallen from the sky it ought to reach somewhere.
So here’s to the pending coffee that was to be served but remained un- poured. Let’s just assume that they ran out of cappuccino and we out of time. But the cup of coffee isn’t going anywhere, or is it?
For: A friend of a dear friend.