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A stitch from life

It was a humid autumn afternoon,  she was waiting for the bus in the crowded bus stand. Just as she was about to board the bus, she felt something slip past, but before she could actually figure out what was going on she had boarded the bus and it had already plunged in its routine fashion.

She quietly took shelter in the window seat, ah! that was the only thing which made her mundane life beautiful. The cool breeze fondled her hair and soothed her racing heart. She was quite lost in herself when a whisper jolted her back. The man seated next to her was holding a book.

Hold on! Wasn't it her book? She thought aloud. She reached for her back pack, well not again! It wasn't a new thing, she had been infamously famous for being careless since school. She smiled coyly at the stranger who by now had in a very precise manner told her how he had seen her drop the book while boarding the bus and hence had thought of picking it up for her.

She pocketed her embarrassment and thanked him and went back to looking out of the window. Well, she had often wondered, how could she not get bored of looking out of the window at the same things. Those same houses at regular odd angles, the lush green tea gardens, the shrinking Brahmaputra, the colourful shops selling fancy looking dresses, people and even more people. But what drew her attention more was the landscape as a whole which resisted change.

She was quite lost in the stream of thoughts when the stranger again made her aware of his presence, she felt a bit irritated. Well, she had thanked him already but now the very idea of having to initiate a conversation was for her not welcoming. He seemed interested in the book and she gave him a basic story making it as precise as possible. And all the time that she was speaking, he kept quiet. But when he started speaking, she actually could see that inside him was a storyteller.

He went on to speak about memories and how memories were something people held on to even when everything was lost. She was getting intrigued and she asked him what was his idea of holding onto memories, he with a smirk added that he was a doctor who specialised in memories. And for a nano second, she had this uncanny impression about him but he burst out laughing adding that he wasn't fooling around but he exactly meant what he said. He liked to call himself a doctor of memories because that exactly was his job. People came to see him with their problems and most of them had one problem which stemmed out of memories.

This was getting interesting and she actually started asking him questions out of curiosity. When she asked him what was more difficult whether to hold on to memories or to let them go, he gave her a very apt answer. According to him, both were equally difficult but since humans are endowed with a capacity to move on supplanted by amnesia, they actually can balance both. They learn to undo those memories at times when they think they are not important enough and also try to keep themselves etched to some which they would want to keep remembering till their death bed.

She was quite impressed and wanted to find out a lot many things from his perspective but by then it was time for him to get off the bus and what he said just before vanishing in thin air was, the very moment he had seen her drop her book, he had known how she didn't quite belong to this world for she seemed lost in her own world which he added was a good thing unless she knew to balance both worlds.

The bus moved and along with it she felt her life had gained momentum as well for she knew what she needed to do, she was to carve a path which was past any attachment or detachment. She was to look out for the void where she could live not just exist.

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