Every afternoon..

I sipped tea while she sipped coffee as the music of rain pouring down upon the asbestos sheeted roof filled the room.

She looked at the rain drops clinging onto the glass pane while I looked at the tear drops clinging onto her cheek.

Her heart wished to see the beautiful patterns of the drops of rain on the glass pane while my heart wished to see her flawless cheek dotted by drops of her tears which, she never wiped away.

She looked beautiful especially, when she smiled. But, she looked amazingly beautiful when she cried. 

The tear drops, like pearls added beauty to the long eyelashes that cradled her big black eyes.

Each drop that fell from her eyes was a unique gem containing her essence in their purest form. For, tears are pure, purer than the fake smiles.

Each afternoon, she would come by, walking across my lawn, stumbling against pots, apologizing and grinning sheepishly. The grin reminded me of my childhood. It was the same grin flashed by a kid who had bullied me.

I hated it.

So each afternoon, when she came by, I narrated stories-tearjerkers. I made her cry-out of happiness! And when, I couldn’t tolerate her smiles, I made her cry-out of sadness. But, she came every afternoon without fail. A routine, formed for life.

I just made her cry every single afternoon when she visited a wheelchair confine that I am, without ever reminding her of my disability, without ever reminding her that she was the one who ran her car over me in drunken rage !

Image : A pic clicked by me

***

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Captivated - 55 Fiction #4

She looked at me with sad eyes even though her lips were half smiling.

The same look which had captivated me for years, which had me tethered here. 

But now, I wanted to leave, had to.

I stepped out of the house, while my unfinished painting of her, turned to embers along with her memories.

Image courtesy : A travelogue in http://convassor.info

***

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Something was different today.

This was not the first time that I sat with him.

How many times had we sat on the fresh green carpet in nature’s lap leaning against the tree overlooking the pond?  Countless.

Yet, something was different today.

He dint forget to greet me by my nickname.

  Yet, something was different today.

I punched on his tummy like I always did when I greeted him. 

Yet, something was different today.

He dint forget to bring my favorite chocolate and cream donuts. It has been a ritual.

  Yet, something was different today.

I mumbled how good they tasted while I dug into the donuts and even dropped a few crumbs all over my dress, while the chocolate syrup stuck around my chin and cheeks as usual.

  Yet, something was different today.

I bent my head to lean onto his shoulder, like I always did when something troubled me.

Yet, something was different today.

His head dint lean back on mine. Neither did he brush away the crumbs off my face.

Nothing had changed over the past 14 years. We came here every Sunday. This was our spot. The tree by the pond. We discovered it ages ago and we had even made our mark on the bark of the tree as kids. Every single tree in this park, every blade of grass, ever petal of the flowers, and every ripple in the pond knew us.

But today, they seemed to alienate us. Like they were mourning something.

The pond was still. It was very different. I threw a pebble into the water trying to disturb its penance, trying to make it look normal, trying to set everything right.

And I heard those words “Alicia, I am leaving for university tomorrow. I won’t promise that I will keep in contact because over the time I might not be able to. I won’t promise that I will be there for you always because I might not be able to be there for you when you need me. I won’t promise that I will come back for you because I might change. I won’t promise to address you as a hedgehog whenever I see you because I might see you as a lady, almost a stranger a few years from now. I won’t promise something I won’t be able to keep up. All I promise is to hold your memories close to my heart, for you have been my best friend over the years.”

But he hadn’t uttered a single word.

The only sound was the plopping pebbles in the pond emanating cascading golden ripples by the setting sun.

He wrapped my hand around his like countless other times.

 Yet, something was different today. Or maybe forever !

****

P.S : Inspired from a real place but a slightly different context :)

Pic courtesy : weheartit.com 

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Sanctity

                                                                                                                                  

Sanctity is not defined by your actions but instead by your thought and the purity of your soul!

----

In deep slumber, there she was, lying like an angel amidst white and blue sheets.
The heave of her chest as she took long breaths while lost in dreamland, he could clearly see.
But, it was time for him to go, to leave her side again like every other day and head to another world .

She opened her eyes as he stretched out hand met the empty side of the bed to nothingness.
The sun’s rays caressed her skin, creating warmth enough to fight the harsh cold morning breeze.
But, she chose to keep her eyes shut, to gather warmth from his image that she saw in her dreams.

**

As the sun wore its evening clothes and the stars gathered around to see it vanish in the horizon, she crossed the streets, seemingly unbothered about the cat calls and lewd comments. She knew that her image was being violated in the filthy minds of these people but she preferred to not think of it even thought it perturbed her, subconsciously.

**

He sat there, in the dark corner, preferring to look at her eyes while the others ogled at her gyrating body.  While the others tried to lure her by offering wads of notes, he lured her with his heart. But, she kept her distance away from him, if only physically, as she circled around them in seemingly obscene yet graceful movements!

She got teens of offers being the prettiest of the lot, but when she stepped out of the green room, after washing away the thick layers of makeup, while the beads of sweat still clung to her, reminding her of the act, she could see him awaiting for her like every other night, to cleanse her mind just like the gentle breeze cleansed her off her sweat and toil, while she sat behind him on his bike.

**

Their love was one of a kind, as pure as the dew drops that the cold mornings left, as pure as the breeze that the mountains summoned, as pure as the silver beam of moonlight, as pure as the silent hearts of the twinkling stars. Only that, the world refused to see it. To the world, their relationship was adulterous and immoral even! 

As they lay holding hands, conversing silently, the night witnessing the sanctity of their pure relationship as opposed to the several other society defined yet impure relationships, he leant over and whispered “Will you marry me?”

The silence that followed reverberated louder than any cacophony but all she said was “Yes” forgetting for just one minute that she had mouths to feed who solely depended on her, while he made a silent promise that he wouldn’t come in whatever way she chose to live for her own reasons which he perfectly understood and respected!

 ***

Some relationships, we might not see clearly, but each of them have their own purity !

****

P.S : Happy proposal day !

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Fire and Ice - 55fiction # 1

"Fire and Ice" he ordered the barman; his eyes fixated at her on the dance floor as she surrounded herself with total strangers.

He lit a cigarette casually.

She alone knew of what he burned inside. Smiling, she headed towards him. 

Her icy cold lips met his,dousing the fire she had lighted, yet, again!

**

P.S : My first attempt at 55fiction

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