Some seasons are fuzzy. But this must have been Winter, late February. The train slowly arrived in Sintra to a halt. Ahimsa didn’t really know what to expect… it had been a while since she had first been there. She alighted the train and slowly walked up the platform towards the exit.
At first she noticed the soft grey woolen jumper hanging from the shoulders, the striking blue jeans. She thought she might surprise him from behind, but as soon as she smiled about it, the upper part of his body turned, his designed profile smiled and a glint of light sparkled in his eyes, he had seen her. His smile lingered on until she got close to him and they greeted each other. She began talking about college student trivia: how were the exams coming along, etcetera and the magic was gone.
It took her many years later to realize it, but he had also felt the magic of that first encounter. There would be others afterwards, but the one that would stick in her memory forever would be that one: the grey woolen jumper, his profile, his smile, his gleaming green eyes.
The outings in Sintra had begun in February as a sporadic event, a break from the humdrum of college life: the same people, in the same cafeteria, day after day. But the first encounter, how they actually met had happened almost a year before, in much less romantic or idyllic circumstances. Again, this Ahimsa remembers clearly, why can’t she recall meeting E.B.? Why has that memory faded into oblivion?
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