The people began to walk into the small hall where uniformly arranged chairs were present. Those who recognised each other engaged in talks of familiarity while some searched for the strings of familiarity or simply looked to create new acquaintances.
Dvija silently waited on the stage with several of the same book kept on the long table in front. It had been a long journey to get here; it had not only taken the experience of years but also the patience of what seemed like a lifetime to get it right and finally it was here. She could see some had already bought the book and had it in their hands. In her mind Dvija had practised it many times being in this moment and she looked ahead as everyone settled in to hear her speak about how the book had emerged out from her mind and heart.
As Dvija tapped the mic once to test it and then leaned forward to speak, she noticed something outside the doors of the hall, there was nothing except darkness where it was supposed to be well lit. Then the eyes focussed on the face of the people, the ears noticed the sudden silence and the eyes noticed the lack of any form of movement. Everything had come to a stop.
It was coming to an end, everything about the moment, all the years all the hard work began to fade. The dream ended in reality where the morning called and the rest of the day awaited the presence. The book remained incomplete beyond the first few lines somewhere within the cluttered laptop and at once the dead lines of work and life came in without permission, crowding and covering the view of the subtle dreams with a strong but subdued yearning.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 