Three minutes is all it takes- the entire crowd around goes numb, the masses surrounding you rushing to their workplaces take a step back, and the visitors get ready with their cameras to capture the moment of the captivity of human architecture. This is how every day is- life feels like a cassette that has been stuck in a radio player- a loop is all it is- observing the world and being a part of it. Among this chaos, I stood with my finger wrapped around by the most significant part of me- a part which connected me to my roots- a part that makes the loop pleasant.

As I slowly watched the blue blend with the white, I saw the world resume with its usual lifestyle as the London Bridge fell down. The rods folded slowly- every second of the fall tested the patience of the population surrounding the monument. Everyone took a breath of relief and stress at once as the bridge unfolded entirely. It is ironic that continuing with the loop of life is sweet and sour at once.

"Mom, let's walk," Agasthya- my eight-year-old son, pulled my finger as we continued to walk across the bridge. The weather was getting colder every second as the intensity of the wind and snow elevated. I could feel my cheeks turn red and my right hand brittle as I tried to match the speed of my son- surpassing the speed of the multitude.

"You want to take a roundabout at Brindisa before heading to the museum?" I offered- I couldn't fight against the urge to have something warm to defy the cold. For the past eight years- since when I got married and started to live in London- Tapas Brindisa has become my go-to place to have any time snack.

"Okay, but we are not missing the show again," at the end of the day, Agasthya was my son- the Universe belonged to him while he belonged to the Universe. Some people said that Agasthya was my exact mirror image- but it was me who could see the similarity between him and his father in every little action.

I smiled in his direction, nodding my head to agree.

It is weird how just a short walk across London Bridge can make you meet many different aspects of life- some on the corner are sitting and just observing the fast world around them, and some are a part of the fast world, trying to make their own identity among the populace. The irony is- if you have stayed in London for long, you have been a part of both of these contrasting masses at some point in time.

As I looked at the world around me, trying to keep track of Agasthya, my eyes stopped moving for a minute second. It felt like I saw someone- and a chilling sensation ran through my spine. Someone who was the central dot in the pattern of my life. A dot that I have been trying to erase for a long time- Did I just see him?

For that particular second, I forgot who I was, and where I was- my brain could not keep track of the neurons, and my heart could not keep track of my blood. I could not move- I was too numb to feel my legs and too excited to decide the direction. The blood circulation in my feet elevated, and still, it felt like I was losing balance and might fall any second. I could discern everything and nothing at the same time. It felt like a movie- the world around me stopped moving for that nanosecond, and all that played in my mind was that dwarf glimpse of those eyes that were the most familiar to me since I started to write the story of my life.

I took a step back to process what I just saw. I fantasized about this moment for years but never imagined that this sudden encounter would happen on London Bridge on a random cold winter day. My body started to shiver, and I pulled Agasthya to stop moving as I saw my past walk(run) across the magnificent piece of architecture in my direction. Of course, he recognized me, how could he not?

As he came and stood in front of me- it took me a good second to transfer the sensation from my heart to my mind. The same brown eyes- through which I could see his past- our past- the pain, the smiles, the guilt, the butterflies, everything. He looked confused-eager-sad-happy- he looked like everything- everything but mine. It was visible in his expressions that it was hard for him to find words.

"Sahaana?" He said (my name is what he settled on) in his deep voice, which acted as dopamine to my mind and adrenaline to the rest of my body. It is strange how a single sight of someone who now exists nowhere but your photo album can turn you into the same person you used to be, how the strong layer that took years for you to build around yourself suddenly breaks with them just calling out your name.

"Kabir?" I said with my heart sinking down my chest- something was happening in my stomach- the butterflies that took me years to kill suddenly came out of their graves and tickled throughout the length of my body.

"Mom, who is he?" Agasthya broke my attention, pulling my finger toward him. I looked in his direction- but was speechless- so I turned my head back to Kabir, trying to find a common dictionary.

"Dad, who is this lady?" said a small girl, who would hardly be three, standing next to Kabir. My heart broke swiftly, looking at this beautiful little girl- even when I was trying to be happy for Kabir, I could not control the tear that was trying to escape my right eye in this brittle cold. I looked at the girl, grinned at her, and consequently turned my gaze to Kabir.

We both were too numb to answer- we both looked at each other's occupied hands and turned around to look into each other's changed lives through our eyes. It felt like this was the first time we were meeting, but when we met foremost, life felt like poetry.