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He would often turn to nature for tranquility and self-connection. As planned, he switched off his phone, left it at home, and went on a hike all by himself. Didn’t even have music to accompany him. He just wanted to listen to the wind, the birds, and his breath.

He walked several hours since the early morning. It was 10:33 a.m. when he reached where he was supposed to. When he stopped to have a good look around, it seemed like time had no control over this place. The clouds were still hovering around, and the sun was hardly visible. The birds were having their bit of cheerful conversations. He looked around to see if there was anybody there beside him. He saw a couple a little far from where he stood, witnessing the same magic as he did.

He suddenly felt her absence now, thoughts of her thwarting his presence in the present. He didn’t want to recall what had happened. Were his thoughts obedient toward his will? I’m afraid not. Memories, moments, words came flashing back. Did it all happen for good? He was still not sure. Did feelings for her found a home in him even now? As these thoughts occupied him, some birds in the distance came for his rescue. They were gliding in the air as smoothly as possible as if they had put up some show.

In a long time, he hadn’t cried, but now he could feel his vision blurring. The world around him had started to condense when the sun came out clearly, breaking through the clouds. He was now smiling with tears in his eyes; recalling the words of Leonard Cohen, “Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in”

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