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Tag: love

  • Letters – Part 3

    Letters – Part 3

    A lot can happen over letters.

     

    Ryder just stared at the photograph. If the girl had clicked his photograph in the school parking lot and went to school with him as she claimed, it could mean only one thing.

    He had seen her before.

    This piqued Ryder’s curiosity. How many times had he passed by this girl in school? Maybe he saw her every day. That got him thinking about all the girls that were in his class. Did she share a class with him? If she knew so much about him, then she would have to observe him for quite a long time and be around him almost all the time.

    Ryder wracked his brain for a sign or hint that would direct him to the memory of the said girl. But all he came up with was a blank. He saw so many girls at school every day. How was it possible to find the right girl with just two meagre bits of information?

    Ryder was surprised. And amazed.

    He was amazed at how oblivious he was. Someone or rather a girl had almost figured him out completely while he had no clue about her existence! Or maybe he did. He just didn’t know her name yet. But he would find out. She had said every letter would contain a confession about herself. So by the last letter he would be able to piece her identity together without a problem. He hoped.

    But who could she be? Could it be Carol? No. That was impossible. He was absolutely sure that Carol didn’t know he existed. Even if she did she wouldn’t bother to go to this extent to know him. And as far as Carol was concerned, he knew her life was perfect. Even if it wasn’t perfect it was almost there. She didn’t have problems like this girl mentioned. So he could confidently rule her out of the ‘Who-could-the-girl-be’ list.

    He did some more thinking. He thought back to the other girls in his classes. He started with English. He didn’t talk to many people in that class. Just the teacher. Then he stopped short. He did talk to a girl in that class. Well it was not actually talking. She just occasionally asked him for a pencil or paper and would sometimes make polite conversation when their teacher would be absent. Her name was Abigail Parker.  She was actually very few of the normal people that went to East High.  She didn’t seem to mind that he had no friends and was a loner. She greeted and smiled at him whenever they passed by each other besides talking to him during English class. She was pretty too. But then it was highly unlikely for her to send these letters because well, she had a boyfriend. And he loved her very much. He was Adam Gregory, the school’s Drama Club President and everyone knew about their cute love story.

    That brought him back to square one though. His letter friend was still a mystery.

    But he was sure about one thing at least. He did want to help her. The girl seemed broken. For her to be so desperate for someone to hold on to and trust meant she really was hurting. Today was Graduation and he realized abruptly that by this time this girl was either completely healed by her letter therapy or in the process of being healed.

    If her confession was true, she would most definitely be at the Graduation Ceremony. Ryder didn’t waste any more time. He had to finish all ten letter before he reached the ceremony. He placed the first letter and the photograph on his nightstand on the right side of his bed. Then he reached for the second letter and in one swift motion ripped it open. It had the month October 2015 scribbled at the top left corner of the envelope.

    This letter was written in a blue sheet of paper. Without further ado, Ryder launched into the letter.

     

     

     

  • Letters – Part 2

    Letters – Part 2

    Letter Number 1 – September 2015

    Dear Ryder,

    Roses are Red, Violets are Blue,

    I am writing a letter to you!

     

    Read Letters – Part 1

    Okay, this is not exactly the right way to start a letter, but I couldn’t think of anything interesting to start it with and hence this. You must be wondering who in their right mind would waste their time in writing letters to you in the age of emails and texts, right?

    Well you see I have been going through really tough times and my therapist told me that I should try something new to get better. He told me to choose a friend, someone I trust very much. After that he wanted me to write letters to that friend.  But the problem is that I have friends but they aren’t exactly real friends. Just some people I spend my day with and talk to when needed. I don’t necessarily trust them.

    In fact, I don’t think I trust anyone except my parents. I have issues, as you may have understood already and due to those issues I don’t trust easily. So I was at a loss. I didn’t trust any friend. Writing letters about my pains and sorrows to any of them would be a big NO! And I can’t possibly write a letter to my parents because they already know my problems and are trying their best to help me.

    At this moment you must be scratching the back of your head wondering where you fit into all of this.

    Ryder’s eyes widened when he realised he was doing just that. He paused and looked around the room. Was this person watching him? He sprung up from the bed and checked around his room for any hidden cameras. When he found none, he just shook his head and sat back on the bed and went back to reading the letter.

    And at this moment you must be looking for hidden cameras in your room, right? Ryder was surprised but he didn’t stop reading.

    Don’t worry! There are no cameras. I promise. I’m no stalker. I’m your letter friend. I know all this because I’ve been observing you for many months now and I know all your peculiar habits by heart! Crazy right? I watched you every day and learnt things bit by bit.

    I actually took a whole month to observe you and learn about what you do, where you go and where you live. Well, I already knew where you live. I just wanted to confirm it once again.

    Okay, maybe that was a bit stalker-ish, but what could I do, I had to know the person I would write the letters to.

    So after that whole month of snooping about I decided to start writing the letters once final year of school commenced. It was the perfect plan. One letter every month and by graduation, you would know who I am. I had initially decided to post the letters right after I wrote them, but I changed my mind. I decided to give them to you only when I had written all of them. I couldn’t have you looking for me before I finished. That would just destroy the whole process of me getting better.

    You see, every time I will write to you, I will become a wee bit stronger, a wee bit braver and a wee bit better. So ten letters Ryder. These ten letters will contain one confession about me and one problem I face and you will help me get through each one of them, even if you don’t know about it yet. I hope you will stay by my side.

    I’ll tell you everything. I’ll answer every question you now have in your head, But one letter at a time.

    So that when you finally read it, you’ll know that you were my anchor.

    You already know my first problem, which is, I can’t trust easily.

    And the confession number one is

    I am a girl Ryder, and I go to your School.

    Have a great month.

    With love,

     Letter Friend

    And at the end of the letter was a photograph. It was of Ryder getting out of his car in the school parking lot, and it looked as if someone had taken the photo of the parking lot from inside the school building.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Letters – Part 1

    Letters – Part 1

    Even in this world of advanced technology, letters hold a special place in our hearts. 


    On the morning of Graduation Ryder West found a bundle of letters lying on his doorstep. There were exactly ten of them and all of them were addressed to him. 


    Letters. Who would want to write letters in this era where technology is thriving? And why would someone write letters to him? Ryder was confused. But there was also a weird feeling of excitement within him. What could they contain?


    His Graduation ceremony would start at 12 and it was only 8:30 am according to the clock in his drawing room. He had plenty of time. He would have read all the ten letters by the time he had to leave.


    Ryder ran up the stairs with the bundle of letters and went straight to his room. After making sure that the door to his room was locked, so that nobody could barge in and disturb him, he flung himself on the bed and carefully sorted the envelopes. 


    Each envelope had a month written on the top right hand corner. The person who had sent the letters had written one letter every month. The first letter was written in September the year before and Ryder was surprised to realize that this person had written a letter every month of his final year in high school. His final year had started in September and ended in mid-June and here he was going to graduate on the last day of June.


    He was extremely curious to know who would take the pain of writing letter to him every month. Was it someone he knew? What did these letters contain? Were they secrets of some sort? Ryder wanted to rip open all the envelopes and dive into the contents of the letters but he was afraid to know what they might contain. 


    What if it was someone dangerous, someone who wanted to black mail him? No he was being stupid. They couldn’t be dangerous. The envelopes were pink and blue which would mean whoever wrote it, must be a girl, he thought. Ryder kept staring at the envelopes intently and suddenly something struck him.


    They were love letters!


    The moment he realized what they were, he almost fell off the bed. Someone had written love letters to him? He didn’t have any friends. He was the school’s loner. But why hadn’t the person posted them right after writing them? Why wait till the day of graduation? 
    If they really were love letters, who could the person writing them be? He had never been able to catch any girl’s attention.

    He didn’t look bad. But he was quiet and anti-social. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t know what love was. He might have been a loner, but he too was capable of special feelings. But the person he had these feelings for was at the top of the social ladder. 


    And he was too far below to ever reach it. She was beautiful. Her name was Carol Winters. She was the Head Girl and had millions of boys kissing the earth she walked on. Be she had no clue about it. She was different. Not the usual rude and mean Queen Bee. She was sweet and helpful and had no idea how beautiful she was. 


    But Ryder could never tell her that. He never had the courage to confess his feelings to her. And he was absolutely sure that Carol would never be interested in someone like him. She deserved someone far better. 


    The sound of a car passing by broke Ryder out of his reverie. He looked back at the letter in his hand. Even if they weren’t love letters why would someone write to him? He just could not wrap this fact around his head. Could someone actually like him? He had wasted a lot of time pondering over what ifs. He would just have to read them to solve the mystery.


    He tore open the envelope and slid the letter out on the bed. Taking a deep breath he started reading the first letter in the bundle.


     

  • APOLOGIES….FROM, THE PYTHON

    APOLOGIES….FROM, THE PYTHON

    It's a story about how we take love for granted to such an extent that we often strangle and devour it. 

     

        She was beautiful. I was undeservingly geeky.

    But, somehow, I was also lucky. I was lucky enough to fall in love with her and also to have her fall in love with me. My past bad relationships and all my vices had never taken a toll on her love for me. Not even to the day we broke up. Oh! Yes, she'd been pushed to the limit and we finally broke up. 


        But, what I relate to you today is the story of how luck really blessed and forgave me. Take it as a warning. Perhaps, unfortunately, there are more out there like me and we all need to see what's going on and what we've become sooner than we lose all that we have, and luck won’t be gracious to everyone, I believe.


       If I were to briefly tell you about our days together- It was perfect; it was beautiful. I had the perfect relationship and the best girl. And sometimes I wondered if I was happy only because she had a pretty face…Trust me, it never was the answer. The real answer to why I was happy was the docile, calm, patient, and beautiful heart that she had.

    The heart that like a sponge had soaked my negativity, insecurities, rage and always replaced it with optimism, levelheadedness and a blissful calmness. She filled colours into my life- colours I wasn't used to and colours I had exploited. Soon, my stomach stretched like an elastic bag and it was enough to engulf not only all her love but herself.

    So, pretty soon, that’s what I set about doing. I was never satisfied with what she gave me. I always sought more pushing my luck and her limits to the extreme. And one day, her smiles were replaced by frowns. And finally, I broke it off. For, she wasn’t what we started off as, anymore. Or, was I not what we started off as, anymore?


         A week after the breakup as I sat in front of my Mac, I fidgeted about on google looking for ways to get her back. Yes, I had become desperate for her now.

    There was something missing from my life.

    For, now here was no one to tolerate my tantrums and put up with me. So, while I was idling away on the internet, I saw something that caught my mind.

    It was the story of a woman who had a python for a pet. Quite interestingly, her pet python had stopped responding to her affection and had stopped eating his meals, and was trying to be physically close to her- coiling around her and trying to seek something that she couldn't quite give it.

    This left her very guilty and frustrated and pushed to the limits. When the vet was consulted, the vet shocked her out of her wits. It so turned out that the python was preparing to eat her. Of course, she was shocked- filled with a paralytic sense of betrayal and horror. She got rid of her pet as soon as she could. 
         

    Yes, then. Precisely then I realized what I had become and what I had done. 
           

    No, I don't denounce the reptile here. He did what he is designed for. Of course, he isn't deaf to the language of love but, quite possibly, his language is different from the human language. So, I personally feel it is wrong to denounce him. However, it isn't wrong to denounce me.

    Finally, I saw what I had been doing to my girl for half a decade now. I had been her pet python. Only, I was devouring her emotionally. I was wringing her dry of love. All the time… All along, she had just been my prey. Of course the realisation knocked the air out of me.

    But, there wasn't much I could do about it. It was perhaps too late. Maybe, now if she saw me, she'd have realised what I had been doing to her. Surprisingly, I wasn't even sure if I was an unintentional or simply a sadistic human python. But, however it may be, it was wrong. 

          We are humans. We don't have to resort to the reptile's ways of love. We speak human words. We break down in human arms. We reside in human hearts. It's alright if she has a life of her own.

    For, she's as human as me. In fact, why should she not have her own stuff to do? Her own tastes and dislikes? Why does she have to stick to me all the time? I'm not mapping her surface area to devour her. She's my love… Not my prey. Moreover, since when did love become unsatisfactory?

    Of course, even humans have different ways to love, but, I refuse to believe that there is a single heart that can't recognize any way of humane love. How can we- We who recognize the mutest creatures- how can we fail something as blissful a blessing as love no matter in what guise we get it? Surely, everything is fair in love. But, how far do we go about hiding behind Tolstoy's innocent philosophy and camouflage our undeniable sadism? How long will they stand by us? Why should they? How are our deeds pardonable? 


         My new realisation gave me a new meaning wrapped in shame and guilt. I would often pick up my phone and type her number or a lengthy message, but, somehow, my heart would scorn me for being unbelievably shameless and not leaving her alone despite knowing that it was what she needed. When one day, my phone beeped with her name.

    You can anticipate my excitement correctly or a little less perhaps.  And though the influx of her messages continued, I controlled my strongest urges to do something – the only thing, I knew to prove my sincerest love for her- and protected her from me. One day, even her messages stopped. I was happy for her redemption and sad that she had to go through it. Well, for myself? Who doesn’t pity and hate himself at times like these?


         Thus, between missing her and scolding myself, a year of our lives rolled on and I had no idea where my better half was- only if she still was so by any golden fortune. However, it maybe, I was miserable. 


          It was a year later when I saw her again.


         I had just bought a new home and was still looking for the furnishings. I was choosing from an array of curtains draped in one section of the large store. There was one particular silken one that caught my eye. It was emerald with patches and stringy lines of dark green all over it.  "That's my taste, you know."  It felt like a dream. Surely, it was a dream!
    How? How was it possible? In the second that passed since she uttered her last syllable to when I whirled around, my heart was overjoyed and overwhelmed knowing that I was finally forgiven. In that infinite moment, I was grateful to many – herself and an infiniteness of the Universe being two of them. 


         There she stood, wearing purple- a colour I always complimented on her.  
        "Hi", I managed. 
         "That's my choice, you know.” she repeated, pointing a beautiful hand at the curtain now flipped over in my hand. 
    "Oh yeah. It's beautiful. I liked it." I heard my voice. 
    But, there was so much more that I had to tell her. So many things more important than this curtain,yet, this seemed an equally important reason to hear that familiar,soothing, homely voice. 
       

     "How are you?" I asked.
    "I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"
    "Became better this very instant"


    She eyed me curiously. "Since when did you become so cheesy,Aryan?"
    I shrugged. "Coffee?"


    She nodded. In the next instant, we were headed to the café downstairs.  Everything was happening so smoothly and quickly today. I pulled the chair for her. She was surprised and rightly. I had never treated her like the queen she was. I had always taken her for granted; never been the gentleman she deserved. But, now I would show how she deserved to be loved. 


        She ordered her usual Cappuccino and I had my Latté. Sometime while she was holding her cup in both hands, her eyes opened up to depths that only I could fathom. For, I was the only  one who had swam in them- considering I had no successors.  


       " You didn't miss me", it was a sad statement. My heart broke. If only I could tell her how wrong she was. But, I knew no way.

    " You didn't text. You didn't call. You didn't respond to my texts either. " she  stated facts that sounded so much like accusations. "You were happy far away from me. I tried to love you as best as I could but it wasn't enough. You did nothing to wi- take- me back…"


        "Hey! Stop. Right there. You have no idea how I missed you. You can't even guess what it took to ignore you like that! You just don't understand!"


     "I don't understand! What? That you are over a college infatuation you thought was love? Oh God! Why did I stop you today? It was over a year back! What was I expecting?"


     We were hissing by now. Soon, she gestured to ask for the bill. By the time I placed a note in the black pocket, she was already standing. Before I could stop her,she was stomping out of the café. But, it was high time I stopped suffocating her and killed my guilt.
         My throat went dry. Something in me told me that if I didn’t stop her now, there will be no chance encounters that would open up to chances like this one. Something within forgave me and finally allowed me to let go of what I had been to embrace what I should be – for her first and then for myself. In front of the café, I knelt down. She was already a couple of feet ahead when I called out her name. She whirled around with an indignant "what?"


        " I have been the worst guy to love. All this year, I was craving a second chance but I knew how undeserving and brutal I had been. That’s why I couldn’t even think of asking forgiveness of you. But, there’s something I have to ask you…."
      she had walked upto me now,evidently undecided. 


    " It was never just infatuation. I have grown in and after the relationship. It breaks my heart that it is over. But, I guess, good things must end for better things to replace them. I know, this isn’t the time or the place that a picture perfect proposal deserves, but, will you pick out furnishings for our house and make it our happy home? Will you…marry me?"


        The rest is my happy ending to live and cherish. But, you are to live and learn your lesson. You might not be as lucky as me. You shouldn’t be as lucky as me. I know, I am not supposed so lucky either and so I am ever careful of having to live without her. Only, this time, she isn’t my sponge for all my mess… She is my life.  So, don't try to be something that you aren't meant to be. Don't strangle and eat up the love that gives you wings and colours. Don't burn your own house down. You never know, it might not-in fact, it shouldn't- rise from the ashes again. 


        Don't be a python to the love that you receive from anyone whosoever it may be. Be the safest haven and the sweetest heaven. Be a sweet dream come true. Please be lines of smiles on their wrinkly skin and not frowns when they are but minds filled with memories- be the large magnitude of happy memories. Build a togetherness that's their castle to reside in.

    Please, don't eat their love … Please, oh! Please, just love them.


        
     

  • Can Love be Arranged!

    Can Love be Arranged!

    Love, they say is the sweetest thing that can ever happen to someone. But in this cold world, where emotions have turned raw, ugly and brutal; expecting the other person to devotedly be yours for a time span of forever is merely a way to make one feel tormented. Relationships before marriages, love before getting arranged, for most of the cases, are just illusive dreams- dreams of completeness which still remains a luxurious idea for couples who have no belief in the practicality of life. 
    Thinking about love, at a mature stage, everyone wants someone who would remain; sustain for them, with them for as long as they can. It is absolutely a true fact that love cannot be forced, but then who said it cannot be tried for. Love being arranged is not a tested accomplishment for everyone around, but it surely is bliss if someone gives in their efforts genuinely. 
    Yes! Love can be arranged. It shouldn’t be looked upon in a disdain vision. Preposterous it is for a person to make a decision about life without even touching the practical aspects of life. 
     

     

    Mishika , come out", Rahul was shouting at the top of his voice.

    Mishika ran up to the balcony and saw his black car park outside.
    'He has never done this before ', Mishika thought. 

    "Yaar I'm calling you for so long. Yaar kitna wait karwati ho", he made a fake angry face.
    She stood all confused and gave him a complementary look.
    "Ohhoo.. will you keep on staring me like this or will say something more? Get ready we have to leave in ten minutes.", he pleaded softly.

    "But, rahul where are we going?"
    "Are, get ready. And please don't wear suit or saree go for jeans or one – piece or whatever you feel like"
    "Rahul? "

    Rahul kept his fingers on her lips and managed to tell her to go and change with the action of his eyes.

    "You get ready tab tak main mummy -papa se tumhe le jaane ki permission leta hun"

    "Okay"

    Mishika was going insane, but she tried to look perfect. As perfect for him as a moon.
    She applied a tint of dark kohl, a perfect eyeliner and pink lip gloss.
    She untied her hair, and straightened them.
    And wore a floral long skirt and a crop top and a net ankle length midi over it. She got heels and diamond studs.
    She appeared to be a princess.

    '*Is something special today? Am i forgetting something?  He asked me to wear these clothes. Seriously? What is the matter? Where are we going? *' her head was spinning a wheel.

    "Ready Mishi?", rahul asked.
    "Coming"


    She descended the stairs and rahul was speechless.


    Mishika broke the very comfortable silence, "but where are we going ?"
    "A land of no one", he laughed hysterically.
    "Okay", she was wondering if he was drunk or something.

    "I'm not drunk miss mishika."
    She stared in horror with the disbelief that she didn't say this loud enough to even let the nearby gush of air listen it.

    He opened the door and made her sit inside.
    As she sat she found a box kept on back seat.

    They drove in silence for half an hour and they were out of the city.

    Rahul and Mishika were engaged for 6 months and their wedding was planned for next year. Their parents arranged it once the proposal came.
    They talked casually but they didn't get close.

    "Do you like me even?" , Rahul asked Mishika in serious tone.
    "What kind of question is this", she replied.

    What she did made rahul love her more.

    Instead of giving the answer to his question she held his hand and kept her head on his shoulder. He was overwhelmed with her gesture.
    They drove for another 15 minutes and he stopped the car.
    She looked around it was a dead end road and she couldn't see anything. He got out and opened the gate of car for her. She came out and he held her hand. They walked in unison and sat at the edge of hill. They both looked in each others eyes. They were filled with love and serenity.


    "Tring tring", Rahul's phone buzzed.
    "Haan bol"
    "Hmm"
    "2"


    And he disconnected. Mishika was mesmerized but still not getting.


    And then he closed her eyes and whispered in her ear, "I LOVE YOU".

    When she opened her eyes, all she could see was fireworks. Her favourite kind of fireworks. The smile on her face broadened and she smiled back at him and with tears in her eyes she said an ♡I LOVE YOU TOO ♡. 

    He asked her to wait there and he would be coming in seconds.
    It was ten minutes and he didn't come back. She got tensed but then she heard the foot steps. He came back with that box, a cloth and pepsi.

    She helped with the cloth and they both sat in silence. He took out the candle from his pocket and lit it.
    Then he opened up the box. It had a chocolate cake. He opened the bottle cap and poured the cold drink in their glasses…

    *She had seen this cake earlier. But where?*

    "What is special today?  It isn't mine or your birthday. It isn't our anniversary. What is today?" She asked curiously. 

    "Okay. So you'll not spare me with this question. It is our anniversary today. Third year anniversary." He smiled.

    "Please na rahul tell me."

    "I'm serious."

    "Okay rahul enough of mocking. I want to know right away"

    "I promised i won't lie to you"

    "Huh?"

    "Okay. Three years ago on this day i saw you first. You were in blue shirt and denim jeans. You gave every child a treat. I heard you saying,         " yaar mere pass bht kuch hai, unke paas nhi.I can afford and I'll make them eat whatever they want"
    I fell in love with you that day. I stalked you, I find your number but didn't dare to call. I was three years elder and that is why I wanted to become something for you. I just kept on staring at your profile pictures. I couldn't gather the courage to send you a request but saw all the public posts.
    This was the same cake you posted with the caption, "somebody get me this. It is yummmmy."

    I wanted to hear that yummy from you. You posted the pictures of random fireworks with the caption, "dream date".

    I wanted to fulfil all our dreams together.

    He stood up and brought one orange rose, "Will you be my partner in crime Mishika?"
    "Yes. Forever and ever"

    They kissed under the moon and sparkling fireworks.

    It was their arranged-cum-love marriage.
     

  • The Mess

    The Mess

    Many people think how it would be if they ever get to live a fairytale love story. But very few people know what it feels like when their fairytale comes crashing down as they find out that everything they loved so much was all a lie. 
     

    I shut the door behind me with a loud thud. I was still in a daze and I didn’t know what I should do now. I slowly walked towards the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. I don’t know what I was thinking while I was walking, but I bumped with the corner of a table. There was a photo frame on it, which I had knocked over. The apartment was so silent and empty, the sharp sound of the glass breaking startled me.

    I looked at our faces – our two happy smiling faces looking up at me from behind the broken glass. I reached down to pick up the broken pieces. It was almost like a reflex, I didn’t even have to think about anything. The instinct to immediately fix something of his just came to me automatically.

    When I touched the first piece of broken glass, I realised what I was doing. I was cleaning up again. I assumed that it was my duty to clean up everything and that’s what I was doing again.

    I left the broken frame lying on the floor and walked on to the kitchen. Flashes of what I had seen today kept flashing in front of me.

    The image of you too were holding hands and siting at the café; you kissing her on the cheeks after she fed you some of her pasta; you both looking so deeply into each other’s eyes while talking; that bright smile on your face as you were looking at her when she was looking away; the way she touched your face, the way your fingers entwined, the way you kissed, the kind of energy you both gave off, the way anyone passing by you two couldn’t help but stare and smile.

    Every single second I spent sitting there, looking at you both broke me down more than I could have ever imagined. The thought of how my fingers were there in yours a few hours ago made everything feel like a nightmare. I was the only one sitting in this tiny bubble of nightmare as everyone around me seemed to be living the most normal day in their lives.

    Anyone in my place would have been furious. She would have confronted you immediately and made a huge scene in front of all the people in the café. All those people who thought of you both as the dream couple, not knowing how you were stabbing someone else sitting right there. I did feel like I was stabbed, I did not have the energy to scream at you or confront you in any way.

    What was I supposed to say anyway? What was I supposed to ask you? There was nothing you could tell me that I couldn’t already see.

    I realised I was holding the opened bottle of water for some time now. I took a few gulps and looked at it for a while. Instead of putting the cap back on, I dropped the bottle on the floor. The rest of the water spilled out and pooled around my feet. I looked down at my faint reflection on the water – this is probably how I would have looked if you would have seen me looking at you at the café. I would have looked exactly like this.

    I stepped over the bottle and walked out of the kitchen. I could still hear them both laughing as I went to our bedroom and pulled out my suitcase from under the bed. The suitcase creased the sheets of the bed and it felt like someone dropped a heavy suitcase on my chest. I lightly touched the sheets and the memory of last night hit me hard. The memory of last night and all the nights of the last 5 years that we spent on this bed. I took a deep breath and turned to my wardrobe.

    I separated all my clothes from his and swept all my stuff off the shelves and hangers. Everything was not fitting inside that one suitcase. I tried to push everything in, punching my own clothes as hard as I could. I took out the other duffel bag that I had and stuffed all the extra things in there. I went to bathroom to pick all my toiletries and throw them in the bags. I went around the whole apartment, collecting things here and there that were mine. I left behind anything that had any remote connection with you. But the one thing that had the most connection to you was me.

    What should I do with myself?

    I am going to remove myself as well. I am going far away from all this, far away from everything that ever had anything to do with him.

    I looked around at the walls of our apartment. Any sketch we ever made, all the walls were covered with them. I touched the one closest to where I was standing. It was a sketch of a majestic horse and it was one of the earliest ones to get on the walls. I ran my fingers very lightly along the lines of the horse’s body and his majestic mane flying in the wind. He was the one who made it.

    I remembered how he had told me while we put this up, that he had made this keeping me in mind. He had told me how the carefree wild horse reminded him about how open-minded and free-spirited I was. I still remember us kissing right after he was done putting it up. I remember many other things from that day – it was one of the best days of my life.

    Something told me that I can probably say the same about today as well.

    As I looked around at all the other sketches and paintings, I felt like someone was holding my head forcefully under water. I couldn’t breathe. I placed my hand at the top margin of the paper. I waited for a while to let my heart calm down. But it was pointless. I held the top of the paper and tore it down from the middle. A long strip of the paper came off from the middle and was dangling at the edge.

    My hands started itching as the memories behind all the other sketches kept flashing in my mind. I moved on to the next sketch and tore it down as well. Then the next, and the next one. I didn’t take any of them off the wall in the beginning. Once I was done damaging all of them somehow or the other, I came back to each and every one to take them completely off the wall. The sound of ripping paper felt like music to my ears. I didn’t want to distinguish between which one was mine and which was his – to me, they were all toxic and they needed to be destroyed.

    I was panting heavily after I was done. I silently stood at one corner and watched all the pieces of sheets lying on the floor, crushed and crumpled, some strokes and colours peeking here and there.

    I walked back to the bedroom and made sure that I had everything in the bags one last time. I took up everything on my shoulders and walked towards the door, stepping over all the sheets of paper, hearing them crush under my feet.

    I opened the door and I realised something as I was just about to step out. I dug my hands inside my purse and took out the keys – the keys of the apartment, the copy which was made for me. I took one long look at the keys and without a moment of hesitation threw them into the mess on the floor. The bunch landed on a crumpled sheet.

    I walked out the door and slammed it shut behind me.

    I felt the hand which was holding me under, let go. I raised my head above the water.

    I could breathe again.

     

     

  • Blue – Part 2

    Blue – Part 2

    You never know when the love bug might get to you. 
     

    Blue.
    A sparkling greenish blue. Just like the ocean.


    That was the only thing that my mind registered.


    Have you ever wondered how it would be like to actually feel those things that the romance novelists write about? I had always hoped for those special moments to happen to me -the fluttering of the heart or staring off into space for hours, daydreaming, or maybe blushing at the mere mention of the special person's name.


    As I sat there, seemingly lost in the eyes of the stranger before me, I swear, my heart picked up its pace. I'm pretty sure I looked like an utter creep, but I couldn't help it. After about two minutes of staring, my brain finally decided to start functioning again which brought me to the conclusion that now would be a good time to look away as I had already embarrassed myself enough. But things never happen the way I want them to because just when I was ready to turn away, something happened.


    The boy smiled. At me.


    And it was beautiful, his smile. My heart just about stopped beating When he smiled, his eyes lit up. That was something which I never wanted to look away from.

    His face held an amused expression which I realised then, was a result of me staring at him like an idiot. I snapped my head down. If I looked into the mirror right now I would probably be resembling a tomato.


    My heart kicked into overdrive and I quickly started gathering my things, getting ready to flee. I wanted to look at the boy but I was terrified of what I would see. I'm absolutely positive that he was laughing at me.


    I risked a glance at him. He was still looking at me, smile in place and it seemed like he was going to say something to me. But before he could open his mouth I jumped up from my chair grabbed my bag and almost flew out of the cafe. I was so certain that the boy would follow me out that I broke into a sprint and never once looked back. I ran all the way to my apartment which was a good ten minutes away.


    By the time I got home, I was huffing, puffing and all red in the face because let's face it, I'm not fit, at all. Rather I was just the opposite, the laziest person on earth. I burst in through the door, ran up to my room, flung my bag at a random corner and landed face first onto my bed.


    I couldn't believe it. For the first time in my life a boy had looked at me, a good looking boy might I add, for more than 10 seconds. But what had I done? Instead of behaving normally, I had gone ahead and made a complete fool of myself. I wanted to repeatedly bang my head against a wall until it would fall off. I groaned and rolled over to my side. Why could I never behave like a sane person? God knows what blue-eyed boy was thinking. He sure had a good laugh today.


    I had to tell Lillian. I needed to calm down. I took out my cellphone from my pocket and dialled her number. But then decided against it and pressed the end call button. Telling her over the phone wouldn't work. I would tell her tomorrow, face-to-face, when we meet at the University.


    My phone made a pinging noise. It was a reminder I had set about an essay that needed to be submitted tomorrow. The side effect of being an English Literature major was that I had to write a lot of essays. This one was on Chaucer. Pushing any thought of the blue-eyed boy to the back of my mind I got ready to do my assignment. I spent most of my time after that to finish my assignment with an exception of a short dinner in the middle. But during that entire period, my mind kept drifting back to the blue-eyed boy and I wondered if I would ever see him again. I wish I knew what his name was.


    Finally I fell asleep at my study table, exhausted, with my head on my arms and with the image of those beautiful blue eyes in my mind.

  • Blue – Part 1

    Blue – Part 1

    We never know when the love bug might get to you. 

     

    I hated rains. They always managed to give me a headache. My boots created a splashing sound as I ran, dodging people who were either in a hurry to get back to work after lunch hour or were just running around looking for a shelter from the rain. The strap of my bag clutched tightly, I quickened my pace, not wanting to be late.

    My boots squeaked as it hit the pavement in front of my favourite cafe, Aroma. This place was my escape. My escape from the real world filled with stress and anxiety.

    I pushed open the door and the bell above it created a sharp jingling sound. As I stepped in I surveyed the inside of the cafe. As usual, there were not many people inside because it was just 4:30pm. It started filling up somewhere around 6pm. I hung my wet umbrella on the rack beside the door and proceeded to the counter to order.

    Sarah gave me a big smile and said

    "The usual, Sierra?"

    I returned her smile shyly and nodded my head. She went ahead to prepare my mocha latte as I stood and looked around. On my right, an old man sat drinking a cup of tea. He was deep in thought and seemed to be in another world entirely. Two tables away from him sat a young couple talking and laughing in hushed voices. Just then Sarah came back with my latte and a slice of red-velvet cake and I turned back to her.

    Sarah was a wonderful person, always cheerful and had a bubbly personality. I had been coming to this shop almost every day for a year now and in that time span I had learnt that Sarah was also extremely helpful. She was in her final year of college and aspired to be a fashion designer. This was her aunt's coffee shop and therefore she helped her aunt by working here. She was extremely passionate about her dreams and from the few designs I had seen, she was absolutely fabulous at it.

    I put the money on the counter, grabbed my food and turned around to go to my usual seat. It was right beside the window and was usually secluded as it was almost at the end of the shop. There was just one more table behind my seat.

    I dropped my bag on the ground and plonked onto the seat, placing my tray on the table. Then I took my laptop out and placed it beside the tray. Once I was comfortable, I switched the laptop on, getting ready to let my thoughts fly. I loved writing, whether short stories or poems or even random thoughts. I loved putting them together. It calmed me and took me to a world of my own. I wrote romances mostly because, yes you've guessed correctly, I'm a hopeless romantic.

    But sadly I've never experienced love even though I'm already twenty and in college. This is natural when you are socially awkward and have almost no friends.

    My best friend Lillian Reynolds is the only friend I have and she's more like a sister to me. We had grown up together. She was my neighbor. We even came to the same college though we have different subjects. She was the only one besides my family before whom I did not stutter. The side effect of being shy was that I would get tongue tied in front of new people, which would lead to a lot of embarrassing stuttering. Boys were a big ‘no no’ for me.

    Nobody looked my way twice and I'm sure nobody would want a girl who wasn't able to string together a sentence without stuttering and pausing a million times. The only boy I've ever interacted with is my father and sometimes my cousin brothers. But Lillian would always keep telling me to not lose hope. But I was sure of one thing, which was, that I Sierra Marianne Williams would not be meeting my soulmate anytime soon.

    To escape this hopelessness I entered the fantasy world of stories where I would meet the man of my dreams, my boyfriend or maybe husband. My fingers flew over the keyboard at an alarming speed as I created yet another story about the girl I could have been. My red-velvet cake and latte were finished in no time and by the time the clock struck six thirty I was on my third latte.

    It was almost time for me to leave. I ran a hand through my dull brown hair and rested my hands on the table to rest my aching fingers. I looked around the cafe only to realise that it had become quite crowded. There were just two or three tables left empty.

    I sighed and started packing. I saved the word document, shut my laptop and put it in my bag.

    When I turned back around to reach for my coffee to finish it, I noticed a boy, about my age, sitting on the table right in front of mine. He was seated facing me and so I could see his face clearly. He was frowning and scribbling intensely into what I assume was his diary. His dark brown mop of hair fell onto his forehead. Even though I could just see half his face, I could still understand that he was good looking. His pen moved almost in a blur as if he was trying to pen down his thoughts before they disappeared.

    Suddenly my mind registered the fact that if he caught me staring at him like this he would definitely think that I was creepy and weird. But my decision to look away was a tad bit too slow because in the next moment he looked up, straight into my eyes and I found myself looking into the most mesmerizing pair of blue eyes that I've ever seen. Call it sixth sense or anything else but at that moment I was absolutely sure that I would never forget those eyes. 

    Somewhere in those few seconds of staring into his eyes I had already started falling for him.

     

  • Losing her

    Losing her

    I remember the small cute stickers of different animals and smileys she had given me when we were in the seventh grade. I found them in my wallet a few minutes ago. My table was in a mess. It was overflowing with garbage. My room stinked like anything. I was clearing my wallet and getting rid of all the chits I bad stored in it. I emptied it on my bed and that was when I found those stickers. I couldn't get away with them. They were still so new. The glue on those stickers was so strong that it felt like it had glued our hearts together for our whole lives.

     

    She had the most beautiful legs one could ever have. They gave her a sense of confidence. She was Mary. I used to know her since my first grade. She always used to take part in all sorts of races at school.

     

    Two days ago she had called. Almost centuries had passed in those two days. I was a busy bee. I had so many meetings to attend and projects to work on. It was a pretty tough corporate life. I hated it but I had no way of getting out of it. Mary often used to call from unknown numbers all the time. But she definitely found some way of contacting me. And that was what pinched me everytime she talked to me.I felt chills down my spine when she said something to me that day on the phone. Never did I feel so guilty about anything. I was  gulping down my throat the horrible guava flavoured Tropicana juice which tasted like some medicine, when I had got her call.

     

    "Hi Nisha!  How are you? I prayed for you today! It is Christmas today. Merry Christmas Nisha! You told me the last time we talked about aunt. I prayed for her too. She will be fine. Don't worry! I miss you Nisha! So, how was your day today? Come on, speak up!"

     

    I was listening to her voice with a lot of solemnity and carefulness. I didn't feel like speaking or replying. She stopped talking on the phone and suddenly asked.

     

    "Hello! Are you there on the line? Hello!"

     

    I kept mum for fifteen minutes like a dumb frog. She didn't deserve to listen to my voice. My voice would have been too shrill for her ears. She deserved someone better. I was not a good friend of hers. I never got in touch with her. I never called her. I soon heard continuous beeps on the phone. Mary had cut the phone. I put my phone on the flight mode. I didn't want her to call me again. I was feeling nauseated. I never hoped to find a soul with a pure heart as she had got. The reality was pulling me into a deep pit.

     

    She was a real friend. A true friend. I loved her.

     

    It was months ago when I had got a call from her. I was in a mood of pampering her. I asked random questions.

    "What are your dreams Mary? Be open about it.I would not tell your sisters living there."

     

    Mary lived in the Jeevan Jyoti home, Nizamuddin. It was a Mother Teressa missionary where many disabled children and orphans were taken care of by nuns and sisters. They were usually strict with the children as Mary had told me about them during our schooldays. She was always afraid of them. They used to keep record of what each person was doing in their dormitories.

     

    Mary replied to me on the phone with a lot of enthusiasm.

     

    "I want to travel to new places. I want to buy a deodorant for myself. I love the fresh fragrance of the deodorant. And I want to teach as many people as I can."

     

    She chuckled and giggled. I got lost into a dream for a while.I just wondered that what would it have been like if her parents were with her today? Her dreams would have been fulfilled and she would not have felt lonely. I always thought that she used to call me when she was lonely. I was often  sceptical about her being so nice to me.

     

    In our sixth grade, we had a trip to some botanical garden. We were too small to understand the importance of it. We only thought of it as a picnic spot with so many colourful flowers, green grass and endless number of farms of cauliflower, gourd, tomatoes and potatoes. It felt like we were in heaven.

    Ashima was helping out Mary to get out of the bus. Her face was red and I could clearly make out that she was angry of not being able to enjoy with others. Her face was enough to express the burden she felt. Ashima was tired of accompanying Mary. Ashima was my close friend but she disliked my company with Mary. We always used to fight over this issue every now and then.

     

    Mary was affected by Polio. Her legs had got paralysed when she was young. I felt maybe that is why her parents abandoned her. I never asked her. Once when I had asked her about her surname she had got very upset about it. So, I preferred to just make her feel happyand not lonely whenever she was with me. Due to the paralysis, she couldn't walk. She used a stick to walk and the leg calipers she wore had to be tightened every few hours.

    She was slow. But her heart always used to beat the fastest for her friends.

     

    Ashima left her and ran to my other classmates who were busy taking pictures. I was with Mary. I was kneeling down and tightening her leg calipers. She stood idle at a place and was looking at our other classmates.

    Ashima was far away from us. She was so happy with the others. She shouted something that I still remember. She was heartless. Her voice was still echoing in my brain.

     

    "I would obviously not want a picture with you, Mary. I mean just look at you. You are a vegetable."

     

    Mary smiled. She knew that she was worthless and always a nuisance for others. She never cried. She had no self esteem. She looked at me with teary eyes that day. I just didn't want her to cry. She croaked.

     

    "Nisha! If I am disturbing you. You can go. I don't want to be a problem for anybody."

    " Are you mad? Why do you think like that? I would never leave you alone. Come with me. We will go to that mini hill there. "

     

    Yasmeen had cone with me. She also wanted to go with us to that mini hill.  That day at the botanical garden, I accompanied Mary. We found the grassy slope  which was a mini hill for us, near the cauliflower farm. Yasmeen and I had gone mad. I made Mary sit beside. She watched us running down the slope like small kids.

    We were rolling down the slope like pebbles. It felt heavenly. We then ran back to the top of the slope and again rolled down.

     

    " Can I also join you people? "

     

    Mary asked hesitantly. She was afraid. She never had an adventure. This time she wanted to have one.

     

    "Why not? Come and join us."

     

    We helped her with her leg calipers. We removed them. And we three were rolling down the slope continuously. The laughter and the madness we had experienced that day was infinite. My class teacher had punished me for moving away from the class gang. The next day I was made to stand on the bench for the whole day. But I didn't feel ashamed. I stood there on the bench and looked at Mary smile at me in the class. I knew that she was happy. A whole day of standing on the bench didn't matter after all. Seema ma'am didn't understand that Mary needed to have fun with us. And that was what I had given her that day. A sense of belonging and comfort. Those were the school days with her.

     

    I was feeling ashamed now.I had forgotten her in my busy life. I never used to call her. She always used to call me. I called her two weeks later. I wanted to talk to her. Flight modes just meant running away from her. I didn't want that to happen. It was the twenty sixth May when I had called her. I was standing outside her home: Jeevan Jyoti home. I was not busy that day. I had got a deodorant for her. The Exuberance. It was my favourite one. I talked to the nun who was sitting inside.

     

    "Can I meet her? Her name is Mary."

    "Oh! She is in the Safdarjung hospital now. She has been diagnosed with leukaemia. May I know your name please? We can arrange a cab for you to reach her."

     

    My eardrums were bleeding. I didn't want to hear anything else. The sisters at the orphanage took me to her at the hospital. Ward number 343. I was feeling numb.

    I reached her bed. I saw her lying on the bed. She saw me and her eyes gleamed with happiness. Her hair had grown long till her hips. She had grown thin. I tried to fake a smile. I was dead from the inside.

    " Happy birthday Mary! I came to give you a surprise. May God bless you my dear!"

    But I knew that God never blessed the good people with what they deserved. He snatched them away from us as soon as he could. I gifted her the deodorant. The tickets were still there in my hands. I had booked tickets for us to go on tour to Switzerland. I wanted to make her happy. But God was too greedy. He had won the race.

    I felt dizzy. I lost my balance. I didn't remember anything else that day.

     

    Mary was not a Viklaang but a Divyaang.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Meeting with Fate

    Meeting with Fate

    It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.

    I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend's wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batchmates. But what I didn't know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.

    I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. And then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex-girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell.

    I immediately looked away to avoid making eye contact. My heart had picked up pace and palms turned sweaty despite the cool surroundings. Things had not ended well between us and I still resented her to some extent.

    The queue got shorter as we neared the counter. She turned around several times and quickly turned away each time. I was confident that she had spotted me and that was the cause for her awkward behaviour. I looked at the display board to the far right. There was only one flight to Bengaluru at this time. With a chill down my spine, I realised we were to be flight mates also.

    She decided to break the ice by quitting her place in line and walking up next to me. She gave me a wary smile and greeted me with a pleasant “Hello”.

    “Hello”, I muttered my cheeks turning pink. “How have you been, Anita?”

    “Smashing” she replied. She seemed a little unnerved by my obvious embarrassment. “It’s been a long time. We never kept in touch.”

    “No” I replied simply. She expected me to say more, but I kept quiet.

    “I tried calling once” she continued. “But you changed your number. And then I just assumed you would call if you ever wanted to talk.”

    She waited for an explanation. When I didn’t offer any she walked back to her spot in the queue and waited, seemingly perturbed. I forced my thoughts elsewhere. I thought of Karan who was to get married to Preeti. I chuckled when I reflected on my first year in college, when Karan had sworn that he wouldn’t marry Preeti “because they were too different”. He was adamant that the relationship would die with their college days. But time had worked in their favour. Consequently it was the differences that Karan had learned to cherish and today, Karan swears that he can’t live a day without Preeti.

    I had been good friends with the couple from the very start of college. In fact it was they, who had set me up with Anita. For this, I both regard and rebuke them. It lead to my happiest days in college. Being with Anita was a blessing. But the darkness that followed after the break-up was unspeakable, even now four years later.

    My relationship with Anita was very different from relation with Karan and Preeti. I remember after the very first date, hugging Preeti and thanking her for planning the evening. It had gone very smoothly and by the end of it, I was sure that I had stumbled into “the one”. Karan had rolled his eyes when he had heard me say this.

    The two years that followed were flawless. Anita and I rarely argued. We had a lot of common interests, so there was never a difficulty finding something to do. And we were both easily amused.

    I remember spending many an evening just watching the sunset over the quiet and serene lake near college. We hardly spoke but we prized each other’s company. On the other extreme, we often enjoyed getting drunk and pulling half-witted pranks on people we found annoying. Whatever were my whims or fancies, Anita was always game for it and that was what I loved most about her.

    The problem days came when we decided to take a trip to Bengaluru along with Karan and Preeti. To this day, I can’t digest that the perfect relationship had gone down the drain in a matter of three days. I tried violently to shake these thoughts out of my head, lest they send me to despair once again. I took a deep breath and looked ahead. Anita had left and my turn in line was coming up next.

    The boarding took place smoothly. I found my place on the plane and nervously looked around to see where Anita was seated. I heard a smirk behind me. I turned around and faced her.

    “Don’t worry,” she said in a patronizing tone. “I’m sitting all the way up front. I just came by to use the washroom.”

    I ignored her again, a little stung by the condescension in her voice. I sat down.

    “Oh come on, Ravi!” she snapped. “Do you really plan on ignoring me through the duration of the wedding? We are going there to show our support for Karan and Preeti. It is not the time or place for your childish demeanour.”

    Meanwhile an old lady seated next to me, clearly disturbed by this outbreak, offered to switch seats with Anita so that she might sit next to me. We hastily tried to turn down this offer but she continued.

    “You two are clearly old friends with a lot to catch up on. And moreover my daughter is sitting up front, I would like to sit closer to her.”

    Saying this, she got up, asked the flight attendant to guide her to Anita’s seat and left without another word.

    “Great,” muttered Anita and sat herself next to me. She then remembered she had to use the washroom and got up again. She looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it and went her way.

    I covered my face. This was the last thing I needed. I silently cursed the people who constantly say time is great healer. My wounds were still fresh and to the bone. I had loved Anita very tenderly and to this day did not understand what caused the demise of our relationship. The pain of losing her was coupled by the pain of not knowing why.

    She returned to her seat quietly and sat down. She made no further attempt at communication. I wondered if things would have been better if I had known the reason. Did she just stop loving me? But her face used to light up every time she laid eyes on me. She could never fall asleep unless I gently whispered sweet nothings into phone at night. She used to call me every morning as soon as she awoke, because she wanted my voice to be the first thing she heard every day. Could all this just vanish into thin air? Had it all been a pretence? I couldn’t believe that. Once we had been targeted by a thief on the street and he demanded that I hand over all my money. I mistakenly assumed that I could fight him and things got physical. I realised I was wrong when he easily pushed me to the ground and was about to deliver a blow with his foot, when Anita stepped in and punched him on the nose. Taken aback by this sudden intervention, he stepped back shocked. This gave us time to scream for help, which sent him scurrying away. I stood up and looked at her in disbelief.

    “You were supposed to run away” I had said with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

    “And leave you by yourself? No. I would take a bullet for you” she had replied softly. There was a smile on her lips but there was utmost sincerity in her eyes, so I knew she had meant it.

    This girl had definitely been in love with me. What had happened?

    “You’ve been beating yourself up with this question for four years” said a little voice inside my head. “Now is your chance to ask her. She’s right next to you.”

    Was it worth asking her? What if the answer is something I didn’t want to hear. Like what if she had found someone else and left me for that person?

    “Then at least you can finally know that it wasn’t your fault” the wise voice inside my head insisted.

    I broke out of my reverie and looked over at Anita. She was reading a magazine. She paid no attention to me. I cleared my throat. She still didn’t look up.

    “Anita” I said nervously.

    She started and looked surprised.

    “I wanna ask you something.” The words came out of my mouth quick and garbled. I wondered if she even understood what I had said. But she didn’t look confused. In fact she had no expression on her face.

    “What is it Ravi?” she asked quietly.

    “What happened?”  I asked. I meant to elaborate but there was a catch in my throat and nothing else came out. Instead my eyes welled with tears which I hurriedly blinked back.

    I expected a tender reply. One filled with apology and a lot of sympathy.

    Instead I got an affront asking how come I didn’t already know.

    “Surely the sinner is aware of his deeds” she said.

    I was bowled over. Sinner? What was this girl talking about? She looked even more offended that I didn’t know.

    “It was supposed to be forever. You broke that. You never meant anything you said” she said suppressing a sniffle.

    “What are you talking about?” I asked bewildered.

    “You told Karan that your relationship was just until the end of college. You were planning to leave me anyway. After all your promises that you’ll always be with me. After your promise to marry me. It was all just a sham. Well, I didn’t want to be a part of that sham. That’s why I left you. And I ignored all empty apologies for the rest of college. You broke my heart Ravi. You shattered it along with my dreams. Yet, you have the nerve to sit next to me and ask me what went wrong.”

    This was all too much for her. She broke into a sob. I sat frozen in my seat. A vague memory came to my mind. Karan and I huddled up in a room when the girls were out. I was teasing Karan that he was going to be hitched to Preeti despite what he had initially said. To save face, he was denying it even though at that point he was head over heels in love with her.

    “I won’t marry her. Just you see.” We both laughed it off like young people do, careless and unaware of other people’s feelings. In my defence, we had also been quite drunk.

    Was I to tell her to tell her that it was Karan who had made such statements? On the eve of his wedding? No, surely I was a better friend than that. And by no means did I want Preeti finding out about this. There was just one small thing that irked me.

    “Did you ever discuss this with Karan or Preeti?” I asked.

    “Yes,” she replied stiffly, not understanding the connection to the issue at hand. “Karan actually tried to defend you!” She made a hissing noise. “Preeti, of course, sided with me.”

    A white flash of anger passed through me. Karan knew everything. He had had the chance to make things right and he had just looked out for himself and his own relationship. At least he could have told me. But that would mean that I would let the cat out of the bag and he couldn’t have that. I tried with great effort to think of all the good times with Karan so that resentment did not envelope my memory of him. I lost “the one” because of his childishness, his immaturity and he never bothered to set things straight. Now four years later, my heart still hurts a little every night, while he gets to sleep with the woman of his dreams. A woman he never even intended to marry.

    No, I can’t let this blind my love for Karan. We all do thoughtless things when we are young. Karan was always a “do first, think later” kind of person. Maybe someday I will let Anita know the truth of how much I loved her. How much I still love her. And I had meant every promise and every vow that I had ever made to her.

    I didn’t talk to Anita for the rest of the journey. My head was in turmoil. There were too many thought running through it for me to coherently pick out one train of thought and make a statement. And Anita, after drying her tears went back to her magazine, never to look up again.

    We landed in Bengaluru and disembarked separately. We took separate taxis to the hotel we were supposed to meet up at. That evening we had a rehearsal dinner. I was in slightly better spirits by this time, although I was still very careful to keep my distance from Anita. Karan came up to me, noticing my discomfort and quietly said, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

    It was all I could do to keep myself from scoffing. I was still a little mad at Karan. I watched as he slowly walked up to the stage and took the microphone. He was greeted with cheers all around.

    “I have an announcement” he said with a strained voice. “I love my fiancé Preeti more than I love myself. But when we first started out, things were not so smooth. In fact I never had any plans to marry for quite a while. It was just a casual relationship for me.” He paused and looked at Preeti but she didn’t look angry or disturbed. In fact she laughed and said, “Of course not, silly! We were so different!” and she laughed again. Heaving a sigh of relief, Karan continued, “Unfortunately my youthful carelessness has affected the life of a dear one. Two dear ones actually. Yes, Ravi and Anita, I speak of you both. Anita, what you overheard that day was me speaking that way about Preeti. Ravi would never think to utter something so atrocious against you. He always knew what he wanted Anita and he wanted you. I believe he still does. And I couldn’t in right conscience marry this wonderful woman tomorrow having all this on my mind. Preeti, if you can forgive me for being so blind and selfish back then, that would be the true test of strength of our future married life.”

    Preeti got up and went forward to hug Karan. They were greeted with loud cheers and everyone began moving forward to join in the hugging. That left me rooted to my spot and Anita looking flabbergasted with her mouth ajar.  I slowly approached her.

    “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

    “I never knew that I had to” I replied.

    We stood staring into each other’s eyes. The lost time flashed between us. If only I had asked what was wrong back then, instead of being presumptuous and apologising for the wrong things. If only she had just confronted me instead of looking for comfort in all the wrong places. Our love was big but our egos had been bigger. We knew better now. For the first time, I was glad time hadn’t healed me. Because that meant I could go back to where we left off, without any repercussions, and I could see from her eyes that she wanted the same. Yes, there was no mistake. She is “the one”.