I can't lie I wasn’t terribly distracted that day.
Especially since he caught me studying his frame from a distance.
And smiled me back a small (but warm) smile.
Which accentuated his strikingly high cheek bones.
I kept, down the day, wanting to turn around.
Go up and talk with him about things.
[ But when a guy who looks like the way Khurram did, it wasn’t a cake-walk to muster up the guts. ]
That day passed like quite a sweet flash.
With more cool campaigns.
With more new assignments.
And more advice from Bodhi’s watchful shadow.
That kept manifesting at my terminal.
Every now and then.
To disapprove my arduous blood and sweat.
Crumble and toss my thoughts in the air.
But most of all, to smarten me up.
[ Something I always knew.
In one flap of my heart.
Notwithstanding his stick and tongue. ]
****
He somehow always made me feel like a bookstore.
Round the bend of some narrow, old street.
Where the ones that cared, no matter how occupied.
Would always steal a moment and come to stop by.
And spend at least a minute at the shelf.
Before they slipped back into their hyperactive lives.
Because they could tell that if they did not come visit; the bookstore would terribly miss them, that day.
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