Varsha stood there that day by the
beach, contemplating whether she should finally give in to her fears, her
darkness and end her life for once and all. A person drowning in the sea was
after all not uncommon in the Bombay monsoons. Sameer visited the sea like each
day to engulf the salty moisture laden air, to feel the sense of optimism which
the sea imparted to him. After all to feel released and liberated was the sense
which the Bombay monsoons brought about.
Days later they spoke, less through spoken
words and more through those little black printed letters that flashed on their
mobile screens. He made her wise and she made the stoic him smile. They weren’t
ever spotted together for their interests and their lifestyle made them the
twain that could never meet.She was the fleeting butterfly who hoped out from
one local to attend a dance recital only to hop onto another one a little later
to rush for a drink at the local pub and strum her guitar and perpetually fail
to meet office deadlines the next day. He was the disciplined one who would
analyze, contemplate and then plan the day, time his schedules and made sure
each day was productive. She lived like a manic, going without sleep for days
and then hibernating for a few days to catch up on all the lost sleep with
vigor as if she will not be able to sleep again ever. He lived by the watch and
with his streaming mailbox showing him the way.
He asked her to slow down. She asked him to
loosen up. They decided to come to a mutual consensus. After what seemed like
barely six weeks, six months into their meeting, her colleagues at work fainted
when she was punctual at a meeting impeccably dressed. In contrast he woke up
with a bad hangover and called in sick to miss an important meeting, leaving his
boss to wonder whether something was seriously wrong.Their dinner sessions were
speckled with sarcasm; their drive home was filled with crazy tuneless songs.
There was warmth in his face that made her glow. There was a spark in her eyes
that made the world around lit up. There was a bond between them that spelled
companionship and comfort.
There
are moments in life which sweep you away and then there are moments which make
you stand more grounded than before. The irony is people around you often
remember, contemplate and interpret the former, with little attention to the
later.
There wasn’t anything that was romantic, yet
there was an faith that imparted life. She loved him in the way she had come to
embrace life. He loved her in a way he had come to embrace laughter.She thought
this would go on forever, which each day beginning with a smile and ending with
a comfort sleep. He didn’t know how far this love would take them in a
relationship that could never be named. Sometimes we are wise enough to
know at the outset that some endings are never to happen in the fairy tale
fame, yet when endings loom near it seems easier to end it abruptly rather than
seeing through it. Sometimes being wise is not enough. Sometimes love is not
enough. She depended on him and was scared to lose. He never had
anything so was scared to depend.She felt she needed to talk. He felt he needed
to talk.The dinner was at their favorite Italian restaurant. She was edgy. He
was edgy too. But still they were comfortable, for there were looking into
mirrors before themselves and not “another person”.They drank champagne till
the French vineyards threatened to run dry and then they decided to walk down
the beach. The cold wind and rumbling clouds made her shiver. Angry skies had
always scared her.It was then that the lightning
struck.He held her and looked straight into her eyes and told her
that he was going away to a different land. She just stood there numb. She said
he couldn’t leave her. He said he made no promise to stay ever. She reasoned
that he never said he would leave.
He said they had found enough within
themselves to sustain.The rains splashed around her and the lightning struck
again. She closed her eyes and felt she would be dead that night. He forced her
to open the eyes and face the rain.“It’s out to kill me!”, she screamed.“It’s out to save you!”, he
shot back as he left her there stranded and walked towards the car.To look on as an outsider, a guy walked away from a scared girl on a
rainy night leaving her stranded on the beach. To both of them he left her in
the boxing ring with her fears, leaving her with the option to learn to fight
back on her own and emerge victorious or to accept defeat. But yes with him
waiting in the car for the victorious or defeated her.
It was her first morning without him. But
strangely she was not unperturbed. It seemed as bright as yesterday when the
phone buzzed to greet her. She smiled into the mirror which still
whispered to her she was pretty, like it had been for the last year. She did
not settle for grey instead picked up her favorite purple scarf. Lavender was his favorite. She
wasn’t late for office and there was the same amount of positivism throughout
the day. Yes she did check her phone for that non existent missed call or
message but smiled at the blank screen instead of feeling sad.The rumbling
clouds and a terrible rough weather made her colleagues advise her to go home
early. She smiled and acceded, but didn’t drive home. She knew where she had to
go.She stood by the sea shore, the salty water traces kissing her smiling face.
She didn’t mind the salty traces of the vast water body that lay before her
stinging her eyes.She had left her umbrella and socks in the car. She didn’t
need them anymore. She now knew how to face her worst fears without bowing down
to them. She looked at the sky and thanked the angel who had entered her life
to change it forever. There are a few people who enter
your lives to teach you to walk following the footprints they leave on the
sand. There are others who teach you to fly like the migratory bird that shows
you the way, but leaves no traces of the path followed – leaving it up to you
to decipher your own way.He was the bird who helped her to unclip
her wings and spread them wide. She now knew how to fly and was deciding on the
course to take – confident and courageous she stood there. There was
no bitterness for she knew that he had not stranded her but had taught her to
live and lead a strong and contended life.
Strangely
she still talks to herself in his voice in her head.....
---- Sagarika
Author of the month on Writersmelon,
With her debut novel - A Calender too crowded

27 comments:
I simply loved this piece. It is beautiful!
Thank you so much Miken, I hope you visit my blog for more such writings :)
Love
Sagarika (endowedwithmetis.wordpress.com)
Feels like music in my head.It is beautiful.
Thank you so much for the wonderful comment, it's over whelming :)
Love
Sagarika
Heart touching write up A star author is born .Best wishes sagarika keep on writing such wonderful write up and touching people's life.
Reg Dev
Thanks Dev,
That was really kind, what you said. Am touched, hope I can live up to the expectations :)
Love
Sagarika
Soulful :)
Thanks Esther,
You conveyed a lot through that one word :)
Lovely :)Nice read.
Awesome..... thought me somethng... really touching...
All The Best...
Reg,
Nazma.
@Meg: thank you so much. am glad you liked it
@Nazma: thanks for those lovely words ... they touched me too :)
Good work, Sagarika. Lovely story.
Dear Moumita,
Thank you so much for the kindly words of encouragement.
Thanks and Regards,
Sagarika
As always loved it Sagarika.....superbly written!!
Thanks so much Pri :) .. and as always I love your kindness :) <3
'Lavender was his color', a beautiful story of love and lessons learnt. Loved it, Sagarika.
Thanks Sulekha for the lovely words. Yes indeed love teaches you a lot and yes Lavender is still Sameer's favorite color, on Varsha of course! :)
nicely crafted.
-Portia
Thanks Portia :)
Aw...just fabulous voice. Kudos. The fragrance of freedom and lightness...after the storm, well depicted.
Good one.
Good luck for your book Sagarika.
Thanks Sudam, hope you shall come back to read more :)
Enjoyed reading this - felt I was there on the beach caught in the monsoon!
Wow Lavina - Thanks! - that's one of the best things I have heard about the piece! :)
My little mamoni, feeling is so rich, it draws a line in mind even after finish reading and it kept me busy, thinking. Very good presentation. Love, Baba
Dear Baba (Bappaditya,
This is the first time you read a piece as a reader and not as my father. Am glad you liked it. You made my day - wish could go to your arms and hug you. For though i bask as a writer there's no greater solace than to be your little girl.
Love
Yours forever little Mamoni :)
While reading it I was reminded of a story called Postmaster, by Tagore...may be it was due to similarity of theme, style of depiction or the dexterity to convey splendid things in simple prose....
Dear Dhruv,
That's a huge honor you've bestowed on me - for he's the creator of my name. Thank you so much! :)
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