Exactly a dozen years ago, a girl met a boy on all fool’s day and they fell in love. The rest as they say is a dozen years of history.

It was the 16th day after the Ides of March. She had come to work about an hour early today. Yesterday Hunterwali’s memo had reminded her that she would have to “temporarily” vacate her cubicle to the editor’s blue-eyed boy, who was arriving from the UK, to work on a ”research”, around mid day. And needless to say, she had to get on top of the deadline by late morning.

It was a quiet Wednesday morning in Mumbai, on the 13th of January. And all I will remember of that day will be a 31 sec video that ran on a loop on YouTube, showing a girl holding her mobile and looking out of her terrace in disbelief as the city beneath her had suddenly disappeared under a thick cloud of dust. A voice kept breaking down in the background, “the world is coming to an end”. She didn’t realize how true her words were, that their world had actually come crashing down.

Before the raging hormones could take control over the mind or the heart, some of us had to move on to other parts of the city. The moving away changed a lot. I moved away from the warm comfort of the familiar faces and moved into a colder para which offered more of acquaintances and less of friends. Once the initial barrage of ‘we all miss you’ letters had died down, I settled down for the occasional birthday or season’s greetings. And after a while, they too became rare. Time had come for the ‘blind alley and its gang’ to fade from my memory.