People told her to forget.
People told him to move on.
She could not forget.
He had pushed away the past.
Even though, her lips were sealed- her heart called.
Though, he did not dare reveal- his heart beated painfully.
How will Zara, Nani, Dawo...
When the wind blurred in and out, rattling the window panes Baba ushered me to lean on it tightly because the lock was blunted and stubborn. It needed oil-drops.
I forgot the name. Was it called- 'lubricant'? I guess it was. But I leaned onto the window, anyways.
You might think: what a fervent idea to lean on a window, just because it was rattling? Well, if your father owned a small, rickety and delicate shop holding cranky doors and equally unstable windows. And to add onto that point the shop was filled with China-glass artifacts; it was- you would relate with me and Baba now, that yes, it did make sense to lean on the window anyhow.
It is surely a fight to lean onto the window panes. Especially for someone as little as me.
It seemed that even the sky was confused and unsure itself on what weather to carry and shed-
Should it rain?
Should there be fog?
Should there be hail?
Oh, no, no- very, strong, jubilant wind flows seems just the right amount of 'hazardous' headline of the day!
And, so what I was about to say- is that when you lean on a window... you have to maybe, even for a second, or two press your nose against the cool glass and... (if you were anything like me!) draw a heart with it!
Yes, rub the nose on the cool window and draw a nice, curvy and sweet heart. Show love to the window... that's right.
Due to the quite of an artwork of a heart on the window (if I do say so myself) I could see what a little bit of the outside. I saw the street our shop was in. I saw black, loose figures rushing down as if being thrown dynamites from the sky- which in this case is nature shooting ice to the ground. I even saw flashes of lightning at mid-day! It was horrible.
Though I was just nine-years-old, I realized that the skies can get wild. They can get so wild that in my fear I should've snapped my eyes shut, pulled myself away from the window to protect myself-
How stupid of me to be scared of some crazy weather?
Who was I to judge the weather's craziness?
When the skies judge our craziness, too?
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