The air shimmered that day, thick with incense and the low hum of Vedic chants. It was the Pooja ceremony for the ghriha prabhes of mr regmi, a quantum event unfolding, possibilities collapsing into observed reality. And then she was there.
Not a disruptive wave, but a perfectly formed Gaussian curve of light and grace. Her eyes, pools of deep space reflecting distant nebulae, met mine. Just for a fleeting, subatomic fragment of time, our fields intertwined. A singularity of connection formed, then vanished before any information could be exchanged.
She was a paradox, a beautiful imperfection defying the cold equations. A chaotic system that somehow resolved into perfect order. As quickly as she appeared, she was gone, swallowed by the crowd, a fading echo in my reality.
I'll likely never see her again. The universe, cruel and indifferent, rarely grants repeats. But I carry that echo within me, a faint signal from a distant star. A reminder that even in the vast, uncaring cosmos, moments of unexpected beauty can bloom, even if only for the briefest, most beautiful instant.