Life: it goes on.

It was raining that day. At first it felt like it was simply raining, not because of what had happened. One of those strange days when the wind carries a smell of wet sand and the sun peaks through the dense layer of clouds! You step out of the college building and find yourself wet from tip to toe and in the next moment, you find yourself standing in bright sunlight. “They broke up”, was the chant of the day. Our little college building, once located in the centre of the busy city now found itself into the isolated town where everything was always under development. The most repeated catch phrase in this part of the town is: “What goes up must always come down!” However catchy this phrase was, it perfectly suited the situation. How can both of them break up, how can something so absolute cease to be so absolute all of a sudden. The first day, everyone on campus was talking about it. The second day, I witnessed confused faces and on the third day, there was complete blankness. In the upcoming weeks, each and every one will try putting the pieces back together. Some will slip notes under their dorm rooms, some will try making them realize as to how perfect they were. Some of us will be imaging crazy scenarios of both of them making up and some will actually try to implement those scenarios. Then there will be those optimists, people who don’t like the things as they are, people who always want their glasses full. Since both of them are single now, this kind of people will attack them like vultures, destroying every chance of them coming back together. These vultures will try to restore order through chaos, something that never quite works out! In our little college building, which is completely deserted by the people of the busy city, in a part of the town where it is always raining, where every one of us know that our lives amount to almost nothing. We live and we die, we come to this little building and we learn that whatever we learn or do will play no significant part, the wheels of life will keep turning in the same direction as they always have been. We are buried in the small cemetery besides the little building. A cemetery so small, that each grave is dug up to at least twenty times, no one even knows as to which layer of ground they will find themselves in when they stop breathing. We live in a world of meaninglessness, yet as proud romantics we look for a meaning, anything to cling on, absolutely anything to pin our hopes onto. Some sort of reassurance that the world is somehow in balance. Now that I think of it, I am absolutely certain that when I heard of them breaking up is the exact moment when it started raining that day.

Decay.
Photo Courtesy: Self.