You’re There For me, All The Time..

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‘Please don’t say anything, just… Walk along.’

‘You’re saying, we should walk on this beach quietly? See this beautiful tint the sun had spread upon the sky while going down, feel this cool wind fondling our hair, and this touch of soft sand sending goosebumps into our bodies through our bare feet. And above all, we are holding each other’s hand. How romantic is this! And you want me walk quietly?’

‘Yes, you’re right. Everything is romantic. I’m asking you to walk along quietly because… Because I want to feel someone is there for me all the time. Someone is there no matter what is happening to me, good or bad, how I am, happy or sad, healthy or sick, how I look, handsome or ugly, who I am, mature or childish, sensible or irrational, successful or failure, I don’t know. I just want you to be there. I want to feel this when I am holding​ your hand and you’re saying nothing. But assuring me with the touch of your hand that you are and will always be there for me. The crazy fact is, I just want to feel that emotion.. You are there… For me, all the time.’

After All The Moments We Spent Together

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After all the moments we spent together,
I wonder, whether she thinks of me every day,
Whether those moments meant anything,
And whether she remembers the kind of connection we had.

When I met her today and I looked into her eyes,
I didn’t see that excitement I used to see,
I didn’t see that care and concern she always had,
Though we used to meet every day.

All I could see in her eyes was a sense of formality,
Because I was there and she didn’t want to look mean,
She talked to me, she interacted with me,
There was no connection, no emotion.

In entire small conversation,
I was looking for that one look,
She used to have in those times,
The look that made me feel special about myself.

I was very excited to meet her,
I even thought of some special moments to reminisce,
But I have to keep everything inside,
I also pretended that everything is fine.

But it seemed, the time seemed changed everything,
The distance has changed everything.
It hurts to realize nothing was same as before.
The dimensions and equations of emotions have changed.

Yes, we tried to stay together, forever.
But at the end of the day,
We had to make some difficult choices.
We may not like those, but have to accept it.

The crazy fact,
The same way I have to accept,
That nothing remains same,
Everything changes with time and distance.


(Image courtesy of blackzheep at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

Mine Is Also Broken

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He stopped on his way to home from office as he saw her outside his office building. She could see a disappointing expression on his face, but pretended that everything was fine between them. He continues walking; neglecting her with his face indicating a rift that cannot be fixed.
“Is that how you treat your acquaintances? Don’t they teach you manners in here?” said she, playfully. He stopped.
“Is that how you break someone’s heart?” said he, without looking at her. Sumit was an IT professional, in his mid twenties, and chose to walk 10 kilometers every day from office to home as a punishment after heartbreak.
“How about, hi Ayushi, how are you? And then we can talk about that?” said she, a cheerful, vivacious, and articulate girl. They were in a relationship for eight years. This was the first they were meeting after the marriage of Ayushi.
“You broke my heart and there is nothing else to talk about. Then why are you here?”
“I’m here to talk to you to make you realize that just because I broke your heart doesn’t mean mine is not broken.”

***

They strolled up to a kilometer. Sumit was still hesitant to talk, while Ayushi was trying to cheer him up to talk in an attempt to make him forgive her.
“Let’s be adults now and talk about what happened and how it happened, so you will stop giving yourself this senseless punishment,” said she.
“I don’t know why people think this is senseless, like they did all the meaningful things in their lives,” replied he. The sarcasm hurt her. But she knew there was a lot more coming on her way.
“Let me tell you something. I take full responsibility of what happened. But please listen to me. I’m asking you to be a guy who always understood me in a way no one else did.”
“Why? Are you the same caring girl who always cared about my feelings? And taking full responsibility after what happened, doesn’t change anything.”
“But opening about how you feel does.”
“Let’s do that. I’m ready to open up and tell you how I feel.”
He paused for a moment. Ayushi was excited to hear what he had to say.
He said, “I feel you are wearing nice shoes. But looking at those, I don’t think you can walk into it for 10 kilometers, so why don’t you just stop, leave me alone, and get along with your life?”
“Thanks. And how about you getting into those shoes? Forget about walking next 10 kilometers, you will get an idea of how I have walked till now.”
He halted, gazed at her, and said, “Okay, I’m listening.”
***

She told her about the emotional roller coaster ride she went through and not involving him in the process because of her father’s threats. Acquainted with her father’s capabilities, she knew her father didn’t make any empty threats. She told Sumit that she took the decision to go against her wishes only to protect him. He didn’t buy it. But he also forgot that he was also responsible equally for not coming forward. Though Ayushi didn’t allow him to confront her father, he had to take a chance. After all, she was his life. But he was into the periphery of blaming her that he could not see a mirror. And she was not aware of any mirror because the lack of confrontation was out of integrity of their relationship.
***

“You told me your side of story. Now, let me tell you, I’m not mad at you anymore. Whatever happened was not entirely your fault. I’m equally responsible for it. I should have confronted your father. I know your father and I also know why were you stopping me. It would have been my privilege to die for you. I should’ve died once, because it’s better than dying every day,” admitted Sumit. Tears dripped down from Ayushi’s eyes.
“Don’t say that,” said Ayushi, trying to take blame on herself.
“Ayushi, wake up,” aroused her husband. “I’m sorry. Last night, I was way off the line. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m ready to apologize and I’ll make up for that. How about shopping and then lunch at your favorite place?”
It took a moment to figure out that it was a dream and yet Sumit had not forgiven her.
“I know it hurt you so much that you can’t stop thinking about it in your sleep. I know I’ve hurt you. Please forgive me,” said her husband.
“It’s fine,” said Ayushi. Her husband hugged and thanked her. Her mother-in-law called them for breakfast from kitchen.
After two years of marriage, she was still seeking forgiveness from Sumit. The crazy fact is, she had to go through another day in which she had to choose what she had with them over she might have had with Sumit.


(Image courtesy of smarnad at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

The Dusk of Desire

The sun lazily crept down the horizon as they held each other’s hand enjoying the view in front. The fog leapt hills adjoining the dam and greenery adorned the hill. Seated on a high wall beside the dam, their eyes twinkled as they watched the water flow calmly; the soothing effect reached deep into their minds. A gentle breeze blew every now and then, sending slight shivers through their veins. The surrounding greenery soaked into their sub-conscience, they looked into each other’s eyes. She gave him an affectionate smile. He held her closer, sliding his hand comfortably over her shoulder. They turned back their gazes to experience the magnificent beauty of the scenery that lay ahead. Immersed deep into the profoundness of the moment, they hardly realized that this would be another priced addition to their treasure of memories.

It was in that moment when they were dissociated from the rest of the world. Their cellphones stashed aside, it was their eyes which did the capturing – slowly acknowledging each other’s presence and the surreal atmosphere around.

‘This is too beautiful to be real!’ she remarked.
‘Yes. And so are you,’ he nudged.
‘But I am here. With you, right now!’
She edged closer.
‘Don’t act all surprised. I know you think you are the most beautiful in the world.’
‘Yeah… That’s right!’ She shrugged.
‘And you have no idea how ‘right’ it is!’
He smiled.
‘Let’s do it now,’ she said.

They propped against each other and stood up against the blowing wind. Both looked down at the flowing water once again – towards the blinding white froth that would act as the end-curtain to their epic stories.


This post was written in association with my friend, writer, and a nyctophile, Anamika Kumari.

It’s Good to See You

‘We are done with the interview. Do you want to ask me anything?’ asked Ms. Shivangi, an interviewer with a pretty smile.

I applied for a job of creative writer at a leading viral content company. I took a deep breath and asked the question I wanted to ask so ardently, ‘Tell me something about yourself.’

She smiled amusingly and replied, ‘I am working as a senior editor for this firm from last six months. I graduated from New York University in MFA and returned to India. This is my first job after graduation.’

I nodded.

‘Anything else you want to know?’

‘No.’

‘Then we are done here. Thanks for coming, we will get back to you shortly.’

I expressed gratitude, stood up from chair, and stared blindly at desk.

‘Anything else?’ asked she.

‘Have you not been my interviewer, I would have said something to you what I am about to say now.’

She looked intently at me.

I continued, ‘I like your smile. It is the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. And I couldn’t help but notice, you don’t have a ring on your finger. So I just want to say, I love you, will you marry me?’

She frowned and said, ‘Yes.’

‘You just said yes?’ I asked, exalted.

‘Yeah, I said yes. Yes, you can leave now. Because, have you not been my interviewee, I would have said something to you what I am about to say now. Your writing is a piece of crap, your interview was waste of my time, and above all, your charm is ridiculous. And I couldn’t help but notice, this is the end of our discussion.’

We both were silent for a moment.

I smiled softly and said, ‘It’s good to see you.’

She appreciated with a brittle smile and a blink. A guilt radiated through her eyes.

The crazy fact, she was my ex-girlfriend who left me five years ago for NYU.

Broken Strings of Guitar

“Do they conduct guitar classes in here?” asked Pratiksha as Kaushal stepped out of a multi-facility hall.

“I don’t know that,” replied Kaushal. “But I know one thing, no guitarist can compose a tune as beautiful as you.”

She laughed. And he lost himself in her uninhibited laughter, just like he did when he used to stare her furtively in college and she laughed like there was no tomorrow.

“No, you’re wrong,” said she as she regained her gasp. “I know two guitarists who composed a tune as beautiful as me.”

“Ohh! You are right,” exclaimed he. “Your parents.”

“Yes.”

Both of them remained quiet for few moments, looked around nervously to avoid eye contact, and pretended everything was normal.

Finally, Pratiksha broke that awkward silence, “It’s good to see you, Kaushal. You are doing great. You have become a guitar teacher and a member of a band, which plays at Hard Rock Café every Tuesday.”

“What are you doing here?” retorted he.

“Do you mean, how are you? Good to see you too.”

He was quiet and staring at the ring in her finger. She left him without a goodbye after being in a relationship for six years.

“I want to talk to you,” said she.

“There is nothing to talk about,” said he, indifferently.

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“You don’t know what is happening to that tune now? And what that tune is going through?”

“I know one thing. Those two guitarists composed a beautiful tune and then broke the strings. The only difference was; those were the strings of two hearts. Those strings always played a melodious tunes of love. But social stigmas found those tunes discordant, so they broke it and thought one of those strings will compose a tune harmoniously with an unknown strings. And you followed them.”

“That’s not the whole symphony.”

“I don’t want to strike those cords now. I realized that some tunes, no matter how harmonious they sound, were not meant to be played together.”

“There is a reason why they were not forced to play together. And I’m here to tell that.”

“Then you have to keep that reason to yourself. Because I’m not mad at you for what you have done. You don’t have to clarify yourself. I’ve moved on. I also realized that destiny is a conductor in the orchestra and we are just musicians playing on its directions.”

I’m Not Accepting This Time

‘Do you remember the only time you opened up?’

‘You accepted.’

‘You think I’m going to accept this time?’

‘I know you have a kind heart.’

‘The kind heart didn’t deserve that.’

‘I know. But you also know I’m genuinely saying it.’

‘I know, but I’m not accepting this time.’

First time, he said ‘I love you’ and this time, he said, ‘I am sorry.’

‘Please? I need you.’

‘I’m not accepting, because when you opened up the first time, you loved a kind heart, and now you are opening up to make that kind heart an alternative to your loneliness.’