Magic

Life is magical. And magic is painful. Because it happens in moments. One has to wait just long enough till the mind has given up hope. Nothing less. Because surprise is such an important ingredient. The most unthinkable to jump in the face in the most unexpected moment. Overtaken by awe, I want it to happen just one more time, but the same trick can't be repeated twice. It was so short and so beautiful that the mind hardly remembers.

What a nuisance!

Like two lovers who would never meet but rather go on building a wilder and crazier romance, to be drowned one day in their own irresistible sighs.

Not just the world. And not just the people. But even my own mind that is pining to see some magic is in itself as magical as a brick floating in mid air. And my heart in moments still does things that are not comprehensible.

And magic doesn't fill the heart. It leaves it thrilled but empty. Today I realized that after all these years I am just a kid wanting to see the same trick again and again. And once the trick is done, the magician resumes his unsmiling disposition as if nothing ever happened. And one is left waiting without a promise.

So magic and a whole lot of nuisance.