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 heavenlooked like. We went out for a bite, we chatted up quite a bit. She was a poet, just like me. She loved quite corners and dusty books just like I did, swelling 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 simple sitting there. As if she were the whole university 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.
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