strangers

The ability to recognise someone, to acknowledge that person and in turn be thought of by him is familiarity. We all pass by countless people however without ever acknowleding their presence, without a smile, without a nod. How many soulmates have we lost? How many inspirations have we let fall away? The boy who sits across from you in the bus. He seems worried, such furrows in his brow, such tension in his shoulders. You want to tell him that it will be alright, to ask him to let go and move on, but how can you?? he is a stranger. The old lady with her head tilted and resting on the frosted window, she smiles with some secret happiness, you want to be able to share the mirth that lies so close to the surface, you want to rejoice with her, but you will not, she is a stranger. When do strangers become our own people? What is that exact moment when the tension breaks, smiles erupt and hands are pushed forward? It is indescribable, and it is so different in different conditions. But one thing we can say... it is magical.