Rain. Yes, it was heavy. An over-used scene engulfed a young man. Why? Because his guardian of the fabric and the metallic thread of firmness were broken. Though his heart had not cried. The clock was running like the water behind his foot.
He was staring at it. Hanging near the bus stop, the clock was a device to comfort him.
"I no longer care about being late. Enough is enough."
His non-gentle self yelled without a noise. And self-talks can heal many souls. His soul needed it. But the formalities and the office dynamics had strangled it. That resignation brought great joy to our boy.
It had been four hours since Himanshu received his liberation. Yet, it was so bittersweet. [tbc]