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!!