In this vast hall, that seemed to exist endlessly, there was hope diffused among the equally spaced out desks. Whether this hope is misguided or not, undeserving or not, I’ll never know nor will I ever want to know. This is maybe because I am limited to me own desk and till now the desk limited to me. I hold only but one seat. Yes only one seat, my uncomfortable seat, population: one. Like every town has their own sounds, smells and stink, so does each desk.
Ten desks to my right sits a girl balancing her pen on her
lips. When it falls spinning it thrice and then repeating the same. I wonder
why her feet tap so rapidly. I wonder about her sweat that glistens under the
fluorescent light and which is quickly evaporated by the fast fan over her
head.
I wonder what’s going on 2 desks to my left, where a striking
girl I knew in a recently previous past sits. Some of them say and I thought that
people with a pretty face have life easy and yet she with her thin mesmerising
eyes was perhaps the most determined in the infinite people there. Her eyes glued
to a glowing screen I was unable to see.
I wonder what happens in the desk right in front of me. Here
sat a man who continuously stared at the ceiling with a partially blank
expression. Had he noticed something about the ceiling I hadn’t noticed or had
I about the room that he hadn’t yet.
Finally at the desk where this was wrote, in this rather
cryptic way, the writer wondered what will the writer write after writing this
was done. Whether what he had written previously was even well told or well
understood.
A break from the wondering takes my eyes to the horizon of
this room which lets me down. I wish I can’t see it well, because what I
currently see produces angst and anxiety. There seems to be rubble and an
endless dark sea. I wish it is clouds and a sky.
Shall I get up and walk to it, or keep sitting? Will I be a pioneer
who discovers the space beyond sky or just another sailor buried at sea for he
couldn’t find land?
Comments
Post a Comment