By Neel Anil Panicker
Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity, so said the great Hippocrates aeons ago.
“Not again Reena”, Rahul smirked at the words of his friend. ‘I am done with…”
“Come on, go ahead…say that,” responded Reena, “say that you are done with me and my philosophical homelies”.
Struck by the challenging tone of her voice, Rahul softened, “Hey, baby, listen…it’s not you. It’s just that I have had a bad time. These past few months have been…”
“Sshhh…not another word, my love,” Reena responded, her voice caressing the evening air, sending mellifluous notes all around the angular corridors that abutted the corner ground floor college canteen.
Her words seemed to have an effect on Rahul for he smiled, even if it were a half hearted effort; his very first in the twenty odd minutes or so the duo had spent together.
The act energised Reena to the extent that she leaned forward and cupped his hands in hers.
Then, looking into his jet black eyes, she did the unthinkable___kissed him on his lips.
Time, at the instant, seemed to stand still while an utterly shocked expression graced Rahul’s handsome countenance.
Reena, watching the refreshingly changing contours on her best friend’s face could only lower her head, this time in coyness.
Then, very slowly, she edged closer to him and planted another peck, this time on his cheek.
Before a stunned Rahul could gather his wits the second time around, Reena whispered into his ears, “I am your cure. Remember, ‘one’s first love is always perfect until one meets one’s second love.’
The words were manna from the skies for Rahul turned around and gifted Reena with a kiss of his own before whispering into her ears, ‘At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”
“Ah!!!”, squealed Reena in delirious delight, “I guess we’re both grabbing our opportunities to heal ourselves.”
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