Magic of Joy

“Hi!” I hailed.


I never approach strangers, but his eyes which spoke of happiness and hope, compelled me to.


His eyes, I tell you, were divine. If not, how on earth was it possible for a globular organ of sight to indulge in forlorn talks of wisdom?


“Hi!” he responded.


His greet felt like homecoming.


And for two continuous hours, with no specks of awkwardness, we talked and gossiped and discussed and debated, and I asked him a question, then another, then another, yet another and it was as if I had known him forever.


In his answers, I met and recollected my old self again; the happy person that I used to be!


Sure enough, he wasn’t someone like you, or someone like me, or someone ordinary for when he spoke, brilliance dripped from his mouth.


Right from the way his ‘hi’ tickled my bones, to the way his perception made the stars inside me shine brighter; from the way his exuberance exploded the monsters feeding on me, to the way his colourful thoughts made me want to get a rainbow tattoo done; from the way the scent of magic exuded from within him, to the way he made me smell the same, he made everything feel poetic.

I bet. I bet, I wasn’t conversing with someone in flesh and bones, but was having a talk with happiness.


What else, if not happiness, should I call the person who just like a vacuum cleaner sucked all the negativity residing in me; who just like a prism disintegrated my sadness into a spectrum of elation?


“You are such an amazing person. What do people call you?” the curiosity bubbling up in me finally made me ask.


“Joy!” he answered, and the way his smile shook off all my insecurities, made me want to build a home inside him. A home in which I would have happily resided till eternity.


My bad, how this funny word eternity lasted only for a couple of seconds, for after letting the brilliance of his name seep in, when I was about to stress my vocal cords, not to ask a question, but to thank him for beautifying my soul, he had vanished.


He was nowhere to be seen. Left, right, front, back- nowhere! He was perhaps called back into his magical world for people like him could no way have been earthly.


Well, whatever breed of magic he was, I would never know; but I would press our conversation between the pages of my diary and whiff its scent every day. Every single day, forever.



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