On a high

She was beautiful- stunning, as he would tell her all the time. She was as stunning as ever but all that he could see was flickers of light with a faded image of hers in the frame. He tried to recreate her face in the haze but could not. The more he tried to open his eyes, the less he actually could.

She said a few words that he could not comprehend. He was not sure if he was trying to listen to her or was ignoring her altogether. His tryst with reading her lips proved futile. Since there was utter silence around, her words seemed to bang against his ears so loudly that they were deafening him.

Just when he thought the world around him was about to go blank, he thought he saw droplets of light fall from her eyes. On any other day, he would have jumped to wipe the tears off but today he could not move a muscle. He watched her cry and did nothing.

Then he saw her moving away. It was an illusion, he thought intially. But, it was not. She never came back. He waited for a few moments to catch her view again but then he could not defeat the weight of his eyelids. When he managed to open his eyes, he saw a ring lying on the table- the same ring that he had given her asking for her love, long time back.

The most important chapter of his life had closed right in front of him, while he was still on a high.

 

At this point...

Here I stand. In front of me is the never ending ceiling of the blue sky meeting the blue water of the sea, somewhere beyond the boundary of my vision. As I look back, I see my footprints on the sand tracing my journey back to eternity. Maybe something is missing. While I had always dreamt of reaching here, I don't feel that sense of completion. Neither do I see any road ahead that I can continue to tread on. So, this is it. Maybe my calculations were wrong. Reaching nothingness is actually the end of this journey.

I cannot go back. Neither do I have the energy nor do I remember the labyrinth of roads I had to unriddle to reach here. I am certainly standing at the point of no return. Since I have realized how this story is going to end, I wouldn't contest fate and make the last chapter of my story unnecessarily ugly. I would rather stand here and close my eyes, making the beauty of the blue my last recorded memory.

Premika

Dear, please don't get upset for I have made you the antagonist in the cycle of events. A married woman must be harsh on her past sometimes. Unless she denies her past, her present may become poisonous. My husband wishes to be the protagonist of my story. It is his inspiration that has made me take an attempt to write this epic. Even before I have written a word, he has set the stage for the best possible critique. Any inclination towards the truth will only bring havoc to my life. Therefore, please forgive me. I am his now. I cannot deny him his wish of becoming the hero of my story. You are nobody in my life today.What you think about me does't matter to me anymore.

But, I don't understand how would I even start writing. I feel my thoughts and feelings are entangled, like a messy spider's web. Which colour to apply on which portion of which picture to give him a hero's appearance and deface you, is what I am unable to decide. Even when I think of disfiguring you on the canvas, the splatter of the paint blackens my face too.

This is every artist's dilemma, maybe. If truth is what they not create, it would be a creation without a soul. If the artist doesn't look at the truth inside him but at the face of his inspiration, every picture would appear to be flawed, and every creation, fake.

(Original- Premika by Bibhuti Patnaik, Page 82-83. Premika is a critically acclaimed Oriya novel that tells a story about love, loss and repentance.)

The Black Rose

Fucking weeds. Just when the flowers were to bloom, they showed up in the garden-right under the plants he had been watering all along. He had spent days together plucking them out but the weeds knew some sort of trick, he thought. Every time he would finish cleaning them up, they would reappear at the same place. There was this one time when  he was cleaning the weeds, a pruning saw ran through his fingernails, accidentally. As blood was dripping onto the plant, he just wished it made the roses turn a shade redder. Silly him.


One fine morning he got this brilliant idea. He should probably burn the weeds to death-once for all. Trying to protect the roses, he decided to take care of a small section at a time. He lit the fire and zap came a gust of wind, like it was hiding somewhere waiting to come out at that moment. The plant was on fire. Moments later he saw the roses shrinking with the fire creeping slowly onto the petals. The roses were changing colour. They were not red anymore. In the fire and smoke, he saw something he had never seen before- a bunch of black roses.

The room of lost love.

The balcony door still doesn’t close. When the evening breeze slips through it, the curtains acknowledge it with a flutter. They create a tide of sorts, imitating the sea. As dawn creeps in, everything becomes still- except the dust specks seen in the sunlight coming through the door.

The sound of the sea. the sound of birds flying near the beach. The sound of the tides hitting the shore. The sound that once reverberated in the house. Today, the closed windows separate the sound from the silence in the room.

The candle on the corner the house- witness to smiles, tears, laughter, passion, jealousy, abuses and wounds. Once the lights would deliberately be switched off to make way for the candle light to mellow the air. Trying to figure out the words each other’s eyes spoke when they could hardly see each other is what filled the air with love.

The uncorked bottle of wine on the table, and the two glasses. The glasses were used for sure. Haven’t been washed, maybe. There is still some wine left in one of them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed it yet. Or, maybe, he has just deliberately left it untouched.

Sometime back love bloomed here, everyday. But then, hearts broke. And, like a souvenir, the broken glass on the window pane still stands there. Broken pieces still not picked up from the floor.

It's time to pack up, again.

I tried my best, but, evidently, it was not meant to happen. I could have asked for her love promising the best of the world’s comfort but then I knew I would be fooling myself if I did so. She, from what I know, is not the kinds who would look for comforts at the price of a compromise. I, on the other hand, have nothing more to offer other than my best efforts to keep her happy. And I know, my best may not be good enough.

We have spent considerable amount of time together-at least enough to judge whether we can trust each other or not. I thought I was trusted. But the other day when she was listing down the people she trusted, I did not figure in the list. Not that it didn’t pinch me. It did. But it also made it clear that I probably can never be the one. An SMS few moments later confirmed it. It wouldn’t make any difference if I was in her life or not. I spent the next week drinking. I thought when I would get out of the fuddle, I would be out of her. I drank, puked, drank, puked again- countless number of times. End of it, I was still in love with her.

Ever since, I have been trying to let her know what I feel about her. I can’t ask her that one question because I know the answer. A proposition now would also put all the time we spent together, under scrutiny. My intentions might be questioned. I don’t want to complicate things for us. Even if she doesn’t love me, I am still happy that she is in my life in some way or the other. I don’t want to take an “all or nothing” chance.

I don’t blame her either. If I were in her shoes, I would probably have done the same. Past cycles of events have projected a different picture of mine to the world and I know it wouldn’t be easy for her to convince herself about me going by what has run by her eyes and ears. Anyone in her senses would not accept me as I am. On the contrary, she always extended her hands when I needed support-despite her reservations about me, maybe. She, in her own small ways, always tried to cheer me up whenever I was upset and has given me a million moments to smile.

But then, everyday looking at someone I love so badly, knowing very well that she cannot be mine, is not easy. Since nothing else worked, I have decided to move out of the city. Sometimes you need to leave the hand to touch the heart, you need to move away only to get closer, you need to stop speaking and let silnce take over. I hope it works. Life would be meaningless otherwise. Two more weeks here and then I will be out of the city. I hope a miracle happens and I come back for her, or come back to take her with me. Till then, I will wait.

Running to nowhere

And there I was-running. Sometimes running away from you, sometimes towards you, but most of the times running with you. Like pairs of railway tracks who run next to each other but never meet. Meaningless spells of running.

I knew the odds were against me. I knew I would get exhausted on the way. I knew I would never be able to reach you. But, I had to take my chances. This was one thing I could not convince myself to let go of. And see where I am today- the same place where I had started from. Either I never moved or things just took a full circle. So will I stop? Not that I don't want to, but I cannot. I will keep running. That's all that I can do now.

Rubbles of love

The book I closed months back. I had folded a page to start from there the next time. Never opened it again. Don’t know why. Don’t even feel like dusting it off.

The ash fallen on the floor. The smell of it suffocates me. Trying to get used to it, though. Can’t ask others to quit as I used to smoke sometime.

The sketch on the wall. A certain name was peeled off. Don’t know what good it did. “In dreams begins the reality” it reads. The reality is I don’t dream anymore.

The toothbrush on the shelf. It will never be used again but I still have it. Only to remind me every morning what not to do during the day.

And finally, the mirror on the wall where I see myself everyday. Generally, the worst moment of the day. This is the time I feel all the plans I am making for future are unjust. I have lost the moral ground to fall in love again.

I will never be happy, maybe. Maybe my room will always remain empty and my past will continue to haunt me forever. Rubbles of my own love, fallen all over me.

Their first kiss

She wasn’t beautiful, only presentable- as she proclaimed, a claim he never bothered to contest. Cunning, opportunistic, habitual liar and arrogant- other qualities of hers that he took some time to discover.

They met at work. He was new to the city and quite frustrated with his work. The job that he had taken up with dreamy eyes did not turn out to be what he thought. She approached as a friend in the new workplace and he thought she could be trusted. He told her a lot of things about himself and how he landed up there- only to realize later that everything that he told her as a friend would be used against him.

She wasn’t really single. She was in a relationship that she chose to accept and deny at her own will depending on situations. Despite what she claimed, he never was nursing a break up. It was a break up he engineered and he was feeling guilty about it. He told his story to her only to offload emotional burden. Little did he realize that he would be pointed fingers at for the same at a later stage. He opening his past to her made her feel that he is interested in her. At least, that is what she claimed. Since he was in his own world, he never bothered to check what she was thinking. On the other hand, she thought “there was something happening”. “Let’s go for a drink” she proposed one day. “Sure”, he replied.

It wasn’t really a date for him. He didn’t choose to wear the best clothes he had or pretend to be a party animal that he never was. A dinner with somebody he felt at ease with, that’s all he thought the deal was. She chose the place.

“Would you like a drink?”, he asked. If he knew that this question will make her think that he was trying get into her pants by offering her drinks, he sure would never have offered. Despite this, “Sure, a martini for me” -she responded.

More drinks and a little food. A whole lot of conversation. Dinner and drinks check. They decide to move out.

“There is a place close by where you get amazing coffee” she said. It was already pretty late but she insisted. They went to a restaurant that remained open throughout the night. He ordered coffee, she ordered something else. As he was having his coffee, she put her head on his shoulder. He didn’t know how to react to it. He wasn’t sure about her till then but this gesture made him believe she could be trusted-as a friend, companion. She might also be that person he would want to be with, forever, he thought. “ I wish the night never got over” he said. However, it was getting late. They called a cab and he dropped her home.

After few days and a million moments of being together, they decided to go out again. “Same place”- she said. He agreed.

They ordered drinks and food. She wanted to smoke and they went out. She told him how good she felt with him and how glittering their life would be if they were always together. She hugged him. He looked at her face and saw a certain comfort in her eyes. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “Yes you may” she replied. They kissed each other and that’s when he made the biggest mistake of his life. He just kissed suffering that he had to go through for a long time later on.
 

Excerpt from a girl's diary-2

Thursday 10/02/2011

"See see see, my boyfriend has sent me this card. He loves me so much"- she said. "Oh my God, chooo chweet"- I had to jump off my seat and scream. But then I thought- what the f**k, just a card? So lame. Come on, Valentine's Day comes just once a year. Or maybe he has bought a better gift for somebody else ;-) Ha ha. That bi**h deserves it.

I wish somebody sent me an empty envelop, at least. Alas!

Excerpt from a girl's diary-1

Saturday. 05/02/2011

I mean...what's wrong with these guys? Very cheap. They pass comments on every girl who passes by them. "Hey beauty"- sounds so cheap. Yuck. This is not the nineties, dude. And then when I looked back, guy says "Not to you, baby. To your friend, in red". Oh thank God. Good for me, I thought.

(Afterthought- Somehow that that bi**h always looks better than me in red. Damn it. And these Levi's bas**rds never put anything my size on discount sale. This is a bloody conspiracy. I hate them. And I hate that guy too. Was he blind? Damn!!)

That's what she said :-)

You are a bastard.
You are a perfect example of people who should be dumped.
You let me down.
I will make sure you leave the city.
It’s only about looks for you. You are with me only because I am better than others around.
I am much better than you, you can never be like me.
You vernies are backward.
I wish you never get happiness in your life.
They left you for good. No one would want to spend her life with you.

She told me these and a million other things. But we are still together. Status-Committed. Sometimes I surprise myself with the things I do. Not too sure whether to be happy for being able to ignore these things or to be sad that I still haven't learnt the lessons of life.

Unfinished

Antaheena rati aane swapna kete antaheena,
Swapna kebe indradhanu kebe puni rangaheena.
Bharidiye sabu swapna saptaranga range,
Prati rati swapna dekhe prati bhor bhange.

Fallen...

It fell. Dry and old- for how long could it have stayed there anyway. Leaves fall from trees, it’s just normal.

It was laying there under the tree, knowing very well that it could never go back to where it came from. A new budding leaf had already taken its place. Greener, younger than it was. Hope- it didn’t lose, kept itself tangled amongst other leaves but never left. Hopeless- its fate was already written, long long back.

Came a gust of wind and it fought hard to stay still. It obviously could not, just a fallen leaf it was. Blown away only to get stuck to the barbwire in the fence. A barb piercing it. Dry already, it did not even bleed.

Another gust and it ripped through the barb. Two pieces, blown away in two different directions. In tears, as they looked back at the tree, indifference was the only emotion the tree showed. Thrown somewhere far away, they still think of the tree, though. Funny!!

I stood..

I stood there when the gust of wind hit me. Dust all over me. I didn’t move. I stood. The flood brought with it all the dirt. Drenched me; every inch of me. I still stood. The winter stole the water out of me. Chapped skin, blood and flies all over me. I still stood. Summer came with its own weapon. Sweat dripping right onto my wounds. Tears? Yes. But, I still stood.

Spring comes and you pass by. You call me filthy, stinky, garbage. Yes I am. But I also know that I have stood the test of time. I certainly stood.

Life's rules

You spend years trying to figure out what you should do and what you should not in life. You make a list a list of rules and follow them religiously for many more years. And then, one fine day, you break one. Bang- reality hits you the next moment. You break into pieces. The only thing you can do is cry, shout and repent. Move on? You just cannot.

I am...

I am the hand that held her to tell her that I would be there whenever she needed me. The same hand also moved back when I was her only hope.

I am the shoulder that she had rested her head on and dreamt of our lives together. The same shoulders pushed her aside just when the dreams were coming true.

I am the eyes that were in tears when I came to know it was over. The same eyes had turned blind when she was dyeing to show me her wounds.

I am the lips that had kissed her assuring that I will always be with her. The same lips refused to open when she needed that one answer.

I am the ears that never got tired listening to her words. The same ears also turned deaf when she was crying for help.

Yes, I am, and I hate myself for having been so.

And the winner is....

They were written off just about a week back. They needed five straight wins and there were better teams to fight with. Only a miracle could have helped them. Well, miracle happened. They won all the five and they are in the semi-finals. What a team!! Go Chargers.

Just another thought

At the middle of the night when I am thinking of her, I am the last person that she would be thinking of. I know that things could have been different if I had taken that one last step. But, it wasn’t easy. Of course, seeing her status change to married and looking at her bridal picture uploaded on Orkut isn’t easy either.

I am happy that she was happy when she got married, sad that I wasn’t there. I am happy that she is married, sad that I couldn’t marry her. Things could have been different if life was a little kind to me. Sadly, life has its own weird way of deciding. So, while I am thinking about her here, she might have forgotten me already. Life, damn!

I quit

Yes, I have quit my job here in Hyderabad. I had no other option. Moreover, apart from professional reasons, there were some memories from Hyderabad that were hounding me and I thought it would be better for me leave the city altogether. So, the end of this week also brings with it the end to my stay here. This Sunday, I am leaving for Pune. While I am excited about going to Pune, I am equally sad for leaving Hyderabad behind; the city that gave me more than I expected. However, life needs to move on. I hope Pune embraces me the way Hyderabad did. Wish me luck.