I was just a narration to all their stories,

Weren’t they supposed to be chapters in my so-called book?

Or were they meant to play a major role?

I never desired a dramatic ending, probably,

Sometimes it’s just about understanding and being able to comprehend the fact about human population and your chances of having a permanent human,

Every single experience is meant to fade past you,

People do disappear in real-life,

Life doesn’t cross paths quite often as they depict,

7.8 Billion people, what would be the probability?

And here I was, Narrating a story to a stranger,

Little did I knew that this too would turn into a page,

A block of memory,

Whilst everyone was running behind a permanent solution for problems,

I tried to find happiness in little things,

Enjoying those little conversations, The measured silence at both ends,

The Ends which never met!!



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