She is not beautiful…just an average looking girl with about medium height and wheatish complexion. She never talks with anyone..alone she sit in the class and alone she lives. People talk about her…they say she has seen the harsh realities of life. I don’t know what realities they talk about. They say she was married but her husband died in the road accident. She lives with her grandfather now…in this small town. She belongs from some other city…some big city they say..I don’t know the name. No one has ever heard her voice…never. I never saw her smiling…not even a bit. Her eyes are always swollen…like she cried whole night and attend college next morning. People call it a weird look…but don’t know why I like her eyes…red, swollen. It’s not pain that she hides in them…it is something else…some secret..some secret she don’t want to disclose…not even to herself..some wound that has not healed in years…some dreams that were not fulfilled. I find it fascinating..to read her. People say that I am just wasting my time thinking so much about her...but I never got so much obsessed with any stranger ever. She always keep a diary with her…a diary..perhaps that’s her best friend. That day I saw her writing pages after pages in that diary. Is she a writer? I don’t know. I searched for her in every social networking site…no wonder, I found nothing.
And that day something strange happened, She was sitting opposite to me in the library and I found her looking at me…a bizarre look. I smiled at her…she said nothing…no expression…but her eyes…what were in those eyes? I felt she was trying to say something to me…with that look. What? I don’t know.
Who is she? Is she me… some years from now? Why I found myself so alone in my thoughts?
P.S. This was a strange passing thought!