ACCLIMATION | Samarth Soni

by The Thinker

I'm getting used to it now. The sudden loss of attention, the drifting away from

work and me slowing down while writing (even this). I read somewhere to not

stop letting thoughts come into your head, that requires more effort. By doing

this let me tell you what happens.


Every moment stretches through, it's like a total slo-mo, 1 second stretches to

16, and every other person becomes blurry. Am I close to stopping time when

we're together? Make a wild guess. Then there's a sudden hyperlapse which

begins with you whispering; you're mine, and this keeps rolling till shivers run

down me.


Three times. Three times my colleague calls me out at pretty much the top of his

voice before my mind grasps his voice, discarding it as unfamiliar seconds later.

The sketch of the building is still unfinished with the pencil lying at hand's reach.


Then I remember you. The small forehead, the generous smile, the thin neck, the

full bosoms, the small waist, and those fragile-looking but tirelessly working

pair of legs. Then flow thoughts of how we met after months and you jumped

onto and hugged me as if I'd been lost in the quantum realm for years, those

kisses all over my face making it hard for me to breathe, the luggage ran away

in the conveyor thrice meanwhile.


You set your sight on me, and my timid eyes stop fluttering and before I can say,

hi; You kiss me. Your lips on mine.


Well, the coffee's now cold, and the alarm's blaring, my phone's vibrating and

it's time to come to you. I'm taking my sweet time, but I'm getting used to it.

Should I, though?