The boy saw the girl.

There wasn't a single good looking girl in my class, let alone the sexy hot ones. But I got no choice. I got stuck here until I finish the six years of my graduation. So, since I'm almost hopeless with the idea of college romance in my life, I've began to work on my other dream - writing a book. I have been scribbling a bunch of crap since some days, reading and researching innovative, experimental literature. Yeah, just like the name, the whole process of writing it is experi'mentally retarding'. My whole life is boring as fuck, I thought, I don't know what to do with it. It was around 11 at night. The time during which my house appears to me like a Hitler's Nazi camp: even a little sound you make should be thoroughly reported to your parents. If I switch on the lights - report: sorry mom, was so thirsty, had to find the glass. By chance, if my phone rings - Report: sorry dad, that was from my friend, a 'boy' friend, I mean male friend, about the exam tomorrow, yeah, I will switch it off. Watching porn and parents suddenly comes in - No Report needed, I will get a straight kick in my butt and land in an orphanage.

But somehow I have managed to unscrew the iron bar frame of my room's window and sneak out, now and then. And in case, just in case, anything goes wrong I kept a list of good orphanages nearby my home, because you'll never know when you will forget to delete the history or accidentally plug out the headset in the middle of..... you know right.....

I have to walk my bike out of the shed and until safe distance from my house from where the sound of my bike's engine doesn't reach the ears of my parents. I don't know where I'm going. I have a friend's room full of all kinds of drinks to hang out at odd times like this. But this writer's block only gets worse if I had a booze night now. So, I just drove, aimlessly in the empty streets. It was boring. But better than gazing at the goddamn ceiling in my room. It started to pour down heavily. I thought to stop and shelter myself under roadside shop eaves. But there are no shops and no place where there is no rain. So I rode even faster to find one. After drenching for about half hour my bike started jerking and halted at the corner of a streetlight pole with no bulb inside it. The engine ran out of juice. Fuck! It was dark, cool, raining. Adding to it, my coughs and sneezes. Yeah, you guessed it right, I have sinusitis. I parked the bike there itself on its side stand and sat on the footpath, still coughing and sneezing. The rain slowed down, turned into a light drizzle. Until then, it was the worst night of my life, but right then something magical happened.

Something really magical. The flickering streetlight at the far end of the street stopped flickering and showered it's LED white light. a beam of yellow light emerged from the headlamp of a two wheeler that's coming from a far far away, beyond the streetlight. It's a lady's bike. The rain appeared like small droplets dancing its way down in the streetlight: A billion shiny pearls falling down under the street lamp. The bike stopped under the street lamp, in the white light. A girl in simple green dress, kurti, with a black legging. She stepped down from the bike, tilted her head to look at the lamp above. Her both arms spread wide, as if she's hugging the sky. I imagined her point of view, countless little shiny beads of rain falling on her face - a mind blowing picturesque.

The scene is a picture perfect. A beautiful sketch by all time greatest artist almighty. It's like the sky is showering thousands of pearls onto her and she was like an angel just descended to earth, drenching in those pearls. It's like the perfect picturization of the word 'BEAUTY'.

It is all happening like I'm in a trance and before I could jolt myself out of it, she got back on her bike sped towards me and then past me. I wanted to follow her. But my bike got no fuel. I thought to run back of her bike. But that will only freak her out. So, I just stood there, staring in the direction her bike went, drenching in the drizzle, experiencing the magic.

Who is she?

- I don't know.

Is she meant to be mine?

- I hope so.

Is this happening for real?

- Yes, it is.

Will I meet her again?

- I will and I have to.

I can't even imagine that what I'll do if I don't.