The incomplete meeting

I take in his thin form as it emerges in front of me. I have been dying to meet him since a few weeks and the sight of his face makes me smile. I step down to have a clearer vision. All the bitterness in my heart mixes with the pure pleasure of meeting him and I feel suffocated as I move towards him. His smile is a tired one, his manner lazy. It is not usual and he looks unhealthy. I wish to embrace him, take him out of his worries and ruffle his hair. But I have never crossed the boundaries of physical intimacy with him. He has always been at a distance, too huge for us to cross. It has always remained between us, a strange barrier that should never be touched or toed. He was more casual about it. A bit too casual actually. It was perhaps just me who had this weird discomfort. He talks about insignificant things he knew would draw out a reaction from me. I resist reacting to him, turning to his friend. He stretches out his long arm to touch my cheek in a playful way, his way of hitting me. He is too soft with me to actually hit me. It catches me off guard and he quickly retreats to avoid my hand. His touch feels cool on my warm skin and it lingers on for a longer time than I can tolerate. I walk away from him, unable to fight myself. I want to break away the walls of ice between us. I know I have just added another layer to them as I hear the concealed hurt in his voice, calling me back in a cryptic dialogue. I ignore and walk on, feeling the piercing pain through my heart.

Incapable

He closed his eyes as the breeze ruffled his hair. It was a beautiful night, away from city lights and honking cars. He barely had moments to relish his solitude when he heard her approach. Landing into the reality with a bang, he turned around to face her and realized that even she had not been expecting him to be there. The usual awkwardness crept up as she smiled and walked to the railing of the balcony, to avoid being rude. He took a deep breath and wondered if she would wait for a few moments like she normally did before coming up with a perfect excuse and run away to the other corner of the house.
She was silent tonight he realized after full five minutes. He looked around at her to see her standing perfectly still with her small hands clutching the railing. Her head was bowed and her tresses shielded her face from view. He was tempted to wipe them off, hold her romantically and utter some nonsense. That was exactly what was expected out of a newly married couple right? But it wasn't something he and his wife would be spotted doing. Except if both of them got heavily drunk that is. He was not even sure if his wife would actually get drunk even after consuming twice amount of alcohol than him. He decided to intervene now. Over ten minutes of silence was weird.
"Are you, I mean, do you like this place?"
She looked up at him with her normal poker face and nodded before closing her eyes. 
"What were you thinking?" He almost slapped himself mentally for asking that. It was a very personal question which he knew wouldn't be answered truthfully anyways. He was in for a surprise though.
"I was thinking if we could ever fall in love."
He leaned on the railing, dumbstruck. 
"I would love to you know." He answered, now looking at the stars.
"I would love to fall for you like I have no idea what love is. I would love to feel all the happiness." He spoke without looking at her.
"But it is so scary, isn't it? To imagine what could come afterwards." She completed. She was speaking as though she was reading from the stars.
"How simple and beautiful it would have been if I had met you when I was 18, somewhere in my college library."
"Yeah that would be nice I guess. I wonder if you would fight me if I tried to take away the last copy of the book you so desperately wanted to read."
"Well, back then I would probably try to act all nice and woo you for a coffee."
"That would be too obvious and boring, don't you think? By the way I never dated in college."
"Well, simple and obvious is what we are looking for right now, isn't it?"
He saw her lips stretch into a bittersweet smile. They both had their demons, surfacing at the most vulnerable moments and claiming their small moments of indulgence. He had seen her eyes glaze in attraction to be replaced by the strange hesitancy. Same was the case with him. 
They were a perfect pair, incapable of breaking their shells to reach out to what was truly their.

A Bit Too Late

I move through the plain fields, the grass glowing beneath my feet in the sparkling moonlight. Hem of my dress occasionally hinder my progress, restricting my movement. My eyes are fretful, searching for the pleasure. I am starved, lonely and desperate. My lips are parched and my eyes are sunken. I do not even resemble the shadow of the woman you had once desired. Every step I take is an effort in a direction I am not sure of. My footsteps echo in my head, piercing the soothing silence. I gaze at the moon which is playing hide and seek with the clouds. It blesses me with light and a cool caress on my wasted skin. The soft cotton clouds are a shapeless veil, fluttering innocently with the wind. They stroke the moon’s face in an undistinguishable emotion.

I stop at the edge of the creek, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The wind is now cold on the droplets of sweat on my arms. I feel my knees buckle as I drop on the bank. My dress is soiled. And so are my hands. I feel my hair create a curtain around my face and I bow it in defeat. I raise my eyes for the last time, using the last ounce of energy I have. And that is when I see you. Far away almost at the horizon, I see you ride towards me. My mind tells me that it is an illusion but my heart refuses to believe. I feel my lips stretch into a smile as I see your figure grow larger and larger in the moonlight. The beauty of the silver landscape is nothing compared to the relief I feel now.

My outstretched arm slowly descends and finally gives into gravity. My spine crumbles under effort and I roll into the damp grass. My eyes are the last of the senses to stop working as your silhouette keeps broadening every second. My prince is a bit too late.

Nothing matters...

Her eyes followed his feet as he circled the sacred fire and with every passing moment, her thought process slowed down. He stopped and allowed his bride take the lead as instructed by the priest. She had never seen him look so serious in his whole life while he concentrated upon the ceremonies but his eyes glittered with happiness. They completed the rounds and settled down for the rituals. He caught her eye and flashed her a grin which she unconsciously returned. His smile was always worth returning. The only reason why she was standing here all dressed up even as her heart cried and wailed. Her eyes were dry and her smile was genuine- watching her best friend getting married to the love of his life- someone for whom he had suffered so much, someone for whom he had longed since he was a teenager- was more painful than she expected it to be.



She was the one who had convinced her parents into giving him a chance to prove him- and he did! She was the one who decorated their nuptial bedroom and selected his outfit for the wedding. But in all this happiness, he had forgotten to look into her eyes see the tornado of feelings inside them. She had scheduled a meeting for his wedding day so as to present a believable excuse for missing the marriage. When he had heard of it, he gave her a long appraising look and said in a cold voice, “You- will miss my wedding? Very nice…”


She looked at him helplessly as he shrugged and continued with the newspaper. After a few moments of silence, he declared, “I don’t care how you manage; I want you here on 22nd December for sure.”


And here she was, unable to ignore him, watching the love of her life exchange vows with his love. Her mother came and stood beside her and whispered in her ear, “Are you alright?”


She glanced and her and did not reply. She sensed it and held her hand reassuringly as he tied the mangalsutra around her neck, binding them together for life.


“If he is happy, nothing else matters…” she thought years later as she played with his son.

Broken Innocence

I wake up with a start, very abruptly. Maybe it was because of the mangled dream I was having. I lift my head and look around the tiny room hidden the shadows of small broken and cheap buildings. A man is standing near the edge of the bed, buttoning up his shirt. He pulls out a bundle of notes and throws it down on my bed and sneers at me before leaving. It has been like that for years- wake up daily in unknown surroundings and see money thrown at you like you are a dog. Every night a guy would come to claim me- rather my body and tear me apart, shredding my already broken innocence. I have been like that so long that the days when I still treated as a human seem far away- from a distant land or of a different person. But nostalgia still managed to bring back faded scenes in front of my eyes- a beautiful lady with kind eyes and lips shaped exactly as mine…A tall portly man bringing me balloons every evening, lifting me in his arms…a small cottage with a huge garden… A young boy teaching me how to speak his name properly…


But all these are swiped away as the reality hits sharp and cruel. I have been branded and priced like any other commodity in the market for sale. Some would give me more than what I asked for, and some would take away more than I could give away. I close my eyes so as to suppress the burning in the corners. I hated crying, especially when it was for me. Self sympathy never attracted me. I have remorse, regret and even anger in me…but sympathy died long ago. I have been around too long to let those emotions overpower me now.

It’s a little colder than yesterday, I think as my eyes follow the thin stream of sunlight pouring through the slit in the thick curtains. These secluded lanes are my world. These dirty rooms are my workstations. I look at the bundle of notes again. Much more than what I asked for. I stretch my arm across the bed and pick up the green bunch. This must be enough to afford that handbag I have been eyeing from a long time. As I run my thumb across the edge of notes, faces of our great leader swish by, smiling in a manner that did not seem so noble now. Money leers at me as I accept defeat. I get dressed and leave.

Lost...

I lifted my head weakly as I saw her retreating figure, slowly blurring because of the mist and darkness surrounding her. At first I did not realise what was happening- was she really growing smaller and smaller with every passing moment? The thought scared me and I shut my eyes to ignore the harsh truth staring at my face. I wanted to drown back in my dream- beautiful and wonderful where we were together and laughing.My reluctance creeped up my arms, slowly binding me. My ego and pride about the fact that ours was an unbreakable relation pushed me deeper in my momentary comfort. Her scream, distant yet audible roused me from my slumber. She had stopped but I could not see her face anymore. She was reduced to a dark shadow just like the people who used to exist in my life and had left courtesy my behaviour. She was the last one left. I couldn't see her pain, she hid it from me and this fact slashed across my heart, tearing it into pieces. I tried to raise my and stop her as she started drifting away again but I failed against the bonds binding me. She moved away until she was lost in the darkness andmy worst nightmare came true. My eyes were heavy again, not with sleep but with tears. I lashed against the forces holding me hostage . But it was too late.