Quite another ordinary day, a boring day, with crimsons light and natural light doing a tap dance in a grey dull room. In contrast, she, at the lecture desk, was like spotting blooming daisies – daisies in whose shed you can spend the whole sun-drenched summer – amidst a barren fire-filled desert – where even sands seemed to be begging for water from the Gods.

She, now here, now there, moving like a dove with its white aura, oscillating in the front space with the desk as the anchor. In a way, I got the feel that the people sitting in the greyish bunker of education liked the oscillation – everyone, even who hated her, had to have the nudge of that soothing, divinely beautiful ambience of her.

“Dale, can you please continue the lecture until I return,” she interrupted her flow causing swathes of discontentment among the mesmerized heads sitting there. Discontent – I was too, but at the same time: buoyed. She had asked me? I am not even in the tally of the prized lot; let alone of her admired.

“Okay, Miss.”

I continued the lecture, but I didn’t give it on Public Policy – which was expected of me – but on Psychology. The heads were perplexed, but they also knew they didn’t want to hear any other sound of Public Policy, than of hers.

Half-n-hour or so passed by, I did not know what I was bumbling, but somehow they made sense to the sharp half-lit selves. Footsteps started growing loud, indistinct chatter materializing – the bell rang with its cruel crying sound sending the birds into a scare.

I came out of the bunker, dissatisfied, disappointed and a little disgruntled – that I didn’t give a classical enough lecture which she may have expected of me. I witnessed her again, standing near the pine trees, resplendent by the orange and green patterns, in creamy white dress. Sprinkling her mellifluous voice, she said with a smile, a smile you cannot see on every mortal, a smile which Venus graces herself upon with: “I am getting married.”