Story of a lost journalist

December 25, 2011

One song, one evening

Filed under: Imagination — Cris @ 17:29

She sat down by a small tree shade. From one of the street shops, a slow instrumental music sneaked out of the radio to come rest by her side. As she slowly let her eyes close and open again to the gentle tune, she saw across the street, him – standing with one leg resting on a shattered wall, thick with old movie posters pasted one on top of another. He was looking at her as if she was a picture from an old memory that soothed him on evenings as these, when the sun took back from earth all its ultravioletness and simply stayed back late to watch her people. She looked back, something about the way the music floating across her hears and his eyes resting on hers, telling her there was no need to look away. Not searching for any meaning, she let her eyes smile.


He moved his eyes now to look at her hair and raised his brows. She inspected her curly tufts to find a dry brown leaf clinging on a lose strand. She let it fall and in turn looked at his shoe laces come lose. He followed her gaze and bent down to tie it. Tit for tat. Before they could come back to play their gaze-game, a fast dog running down the street made her stand up agile. As she heaved at its retreat, he let her see him laugh gently. She looked down to hide her blushes. When she lifted her face up, his eyes asked her to look yonder at the skies above. Tiny dots of birds circled a far away hill as the sun was preparing to start its journey down the horizon. The music, now led by a violin seemed to have brought him along to her side. She didn’t know how long they stood there watching the beautiful evening slid into oblivion or when they started walking uphill to personally bid goodbye to a magical day. The radio was now far away, but the music never left her side – it stood between him and her, letting her dream on and not fall back to reality.


  1. 🙂

    Comment by gaavan — December 25, 2011 @ 21:39 | Reply

  2. The music is so mesmerising, no wonder she found herself floating in world of dream or herself finding him, exchanging Gazes and smiles,the alphabets in the language of Love.

    I loved the Post and the music as well. The violin part is so beautiful and so is “The radio was now far away, but the music never left her side – it stood between him and her, letting her dream on and not fall back to reality.”

    I am feeling the magic of the music and I am feeling her by my side..
    Thank you

    Comment by Javed Miandad — December 26, 2011 @ 03:44 | Reply

    • That’s good Javed. Go ahead, you are on the right track 🙂

      Comment by Cris — December 26, 2011 @ 17:47 | Reply

  3. you are turning out to be too good at this, Cris girl! totally loved it. way to go!!

    Comment by usha — December 26, 2011 @ 16:54 | Reply

    • Wowww you just made my day Usha girl! Thank ye :-))

      Comment by Cris — December 26, 2011 @ 17:48 | Reply

  4. Small but beautiful excerpt, felt as if i was there when all that happened. Loved it.

    Comment by joseph rodriguez — January 22, 2012 @ 03:25 | Reply

    • Joseph: Sorry I missed to reply to your comment. Thank you 🙂

      Comment by Cris — July 7, 2012 @ 12:42 | Reply

  5. hoi! 2 thumbs up… laks

    Comment by Lakshmi — April 4, 2012 @ 00:22 | Reply

    • Thanks Pugs :-). Good to see ya here

      Comment by Cris — April 5, 2012 @ 01:03 | Reply

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