Yes, I try, well, try-not to think about ironies of love, or even love for that matter..leaves me with a bad or sullen mood and a bitter taste…

And, what I didn’t tell him was

That somwhere I hoped and I hoped that love would find me again and take me in….

He smiled at her and said..
“Bitch, you better remmember that!”

Image credits-Flickr

The uncertain future looms large over me

I see nothing;

Yet, I forsee

Friends-she mused over the word as she watched familiar yet different expressions on his face. The laugh, the aura, the style, the chivalry-all was intact yet things had changed, the world had changed, she had changed or was trying to. For good or bad, was the question she thought she heard.

Couldn’t we talk, she thought of asking him-talk about all that I’ve been through, about times I really need you, about the bitter facts of today, about you and me, when we don’t remain us anymore.

And there were things she missed-small-stupid-silly-funny-but at the same time there was nothing better than the fact that they could still share a laugh, or coffee at times…

‘And it’s satisfying, well beyond it, the realization of the fact that yes; there -was-is- a man who loved you. It is a mean thing to do, to compare the part of love you’ve got with other things in the world or love itself-to weigh it-it won’t be a good choice, I feel’…she wrote down in her diary…

The shade of the evening got darker, the silence stronger and the taste of the coffee was wearing off. She combed her hair into a bun and wished she had let them grow.

The lost echo of the last sound

A reverberation at the distance

A strung in the guitar, lost and found

Then it could happen, life waiting for me. And I could act silly and take a chance again. But my brevity lies in waiting, even if it gets longer and the silence is at times too much of a distraction.

I want a word, a sound, a sigh, a whisper…

P.S-Whenever Wildflower writes, I just know that I wanted to put words to the same things. But where I fail miserably, she does it with excellence.

I plan the beginning as unimaginative as it could be. Maybe, a simple exchange of phone numbers in which none was interested, or could it be an unintended festival greeting and later, a phone call in return.

Summers are too hot for anything, you just sweat. Winters get too cold to have warm feelings, rains bring in a flavor but autumn suits them the best. Autumns, when the circle begins and ends, the season in which they meet and depart.

What would the time be like? Would the time fly by when they are with each other, or they’d talk and talk of love and longing. There would be coffees, sighs, cheers, kisses, songs, mischievous ideas etc.

And then the question-how to give them a perfect happy ending?! Anyways, are happy endings for real? Or maybe a twist would do so much better, just one twist and the romance turns bitter, maybe a hideous affair, or some secrets, a lover from the past, or a fight against parents. So many reasons but I still wish somewhere to keep it plain, to keep it happy.

And that all would go into this unwritten story.

A story-a love story, a ‘short’ story!

Or maybe, some stories are as ‘endless’ as this one!

There weren’t many things left to be said, by now. They were clear unlike the afternoon, in his head and in her heart. She often played with her cell phone, to distract herself from the heavy thoughts, keeping her brown eyes at it, for she was afraid a drop would steer down if she’d move them too much. He on the other hand, stared into abyss, stealing a quick glance of her face from time to time. He was afraid she would cry.

What could he say? What would she want to hear? He kept on thinking to himself about the times that had gone. She wished there were better times for them.

Soon, the silence was disrupted by the rattle of the rain drops on the red tin roof. She looked at the clock, it had been an hour.

‘Are you ever going to speak?’ she managed to keep her voice low.

‘Would it matter what I say now. It’s my fate and I’ve resigned to it’, he said looking out of the window for a change.

You’re such a coward, she said, picking up her bag.

As she made it to the exit, he rested his head in his palms. I would live with this; he thought to himself, finally feeling an uneasy comfortableness, something which he didn’t know what to name.

‘Fight for me’, she chanted the three words innumerable times under her breath and crossed the door.

A raindrop settled on her cheek bone.

*He also told me- do good and forget it.

* He repeated- don’t expect. Not even a smile! But that shouldn’t stop you from giving one.

* He quoted people. He had his favorites too. But I never really saw him ‘dislike’.

* He read books. He gave me a few!

* He told me stories.

* He said ‘Kid, I love you’

***

He died!!!

I thought I would never meet a man like him again;

I met him…

He went away too.

You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more.

You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you.

When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement.

Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful.

You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.

-Bob Marley

(Tonight, the words sound so right! Thanks to Americanising Desi for introducing me to these!)

She was angry at him for all the delays and being not-so-particular about things. I am tired of all this, she thought. Why should I always be ignored, why only I am making sure that everything is in place and on time? And then he calls up at the last minute only to say that he is already on his way, she built up her argument, knowing she wasn’t good at them, especially if the situation is least intended.

And then if something would go wrong, I would be the only one consumed in guilt for choosing it and hurrying on it, she lined a defense when her mind drifted to the excitement of seeing him in a kurta, which he loved for traveling purpose.

It’s his job after all; she confessed to herself but managed to resort back to a calmer annoyance about how things turned up that day.

Her line of thoughts changed again. She was wearing what he had gifted on her birthday and hoping that it would be liked. The taxi stopped and the driver opened the door for her as she paid him the money.

The drift of excitement was overlapped with annoyance again and she made her way through bags and people to reach him. She found him, struggling with a blue bag in one hand and coffee in other, with a look in his eyes which she knew meant he was looking for her. She took a deep breath and they walked to sit on the available benches.

She was looking for an opening where she could rant and rave, so she let him talk.

‘And I haven’t eaten since morning; this coffee is the only thing I have touched ever since…’ he said casually, speaking of the work pressure and the days events.

Aw honey, she thought!

In an instant she found her annoyance disappeared and she was left disappointed in self for being so unreasonable and selfish.

If only she could understand him better.