His absence withpresenc
I met him right there. Just at the 78 years old pen shop. He was gorgeous. Our eyes never met. It was one of my favourite places and now I had one more reason to visit it. There were benches there, right below the tall tree which stood there for ages. It had seen every generation that passed by.
I used to sit on the exact red bench every single day with any book of love story I had. He sat there too. He came, sat silent with his usual blue backpack and the silver water bottle. The guy had not the slightest idea that I existed. He would do nothing but sit quite. He made my day. The air around him was something. He never heard me, but I did. I fell for the first time for someone's voice. Its a regret to recall that I didn't ask for his name. We didn't know each other, but I wish if we could exchange glances, just for once.
And here's why our eyes never met, he was blind. Only if he had a way to look at me, I would melt right then.
21st June, 2000. Exactly the last day I saw him. He left the place. He had shifted. My heart cried. The owner had been watching, literally everything I felt. He gave me a pen. My heart raced. It was His. He carried it everytime he visited the place.
He knew it all along, about my existence. He grew a smile on my face. I still continue to visit the pen shop just to have his memories back. The right side of the red bench stands empty.
The pen, it's always with me. I miss him. I miss his absence even when he was present. And now, it's his presence that I feel in his absence.
