An auburn evening and a never made phone call.

 In her moments of solitude she often wondered, "does he still think of me? Does he want to call me up and tell me about his dreams? Does he want to send me a message but is still too busy with his life.. Does he miss me as much as I miss him?" The answers always disappointed her. Naive as she was, she decided to listen to her heart. After staring at the screen for some good ten minutes, she searched for his name. She desperately wanted to dial that number. Wanted to listen to his voice, ask him how he was keeping, if he had started seeing someone. Above all, she wanted to tell him that she missed him, her best friend, her only friend. She wondered if what they said was true. That when you miss a person so much, it is only because they are missing you too. She wondered, even if for a moment, did she ever cross his mind? Did he try to call her up. She decided to put aside her thoughts and pretend as though they hadn't been through anything. As though they were still best of friends.. It took her about a year to muster up all her courage, to dial that one number. Just then, the airhostess placed a gentle tap on her shoulder.
"Ma'am, the flight is preparing for take off. We cannot allow you to use the phone. Can you please switch it off?" A plastic smile from her side made Kritika's stomach drop and she felt as though she would puke, any moment. After all, it is not every day that you miss a person from your past and you end up cancelling meetings and board a flight to another corner of the country, just to find an escape route? Just because some unexpressed emotion has come back to haunt you, just because something has triggered in your mind a cavalcade  memories and questions of "what might have happened"
Disappointed, she switched off her phone and put it back in her purse. "I promise I will call him as soon as the flight lands."
As the flight took off, Kritika, lost in her thoughts, continued to stare into the oblivion . She stared at the clouds as the flight swayed towards its destination, she stared at the orange crowning of the sun around the clouds, it made the sky pregnant with an eerie sense of nostalgia. She stared at the distant necklace shaped lights as the flight prepared for landing. Any moment now. She thought. She would listen to his voice after so long. The joy of imagining the feeling had in itself another pleasure.
The flight landed, she took out her phone, only to switch it on and receive a call from her secretary.
"Madam. The cab driver is waiting for you  near gate number five"
The device vibrated near her ears and as a reflex she dropped it from her hands."Battery too low of radio use." the message read.
She cursed her blackberry once again. She promised she would reach home and call him.
But as she traveled back home, her mind took over he heart. She realized she was being foolish.That  he was a chapter from the past and the story had ended. That she was now a woman of twenty three, running a successful management consultancy firm,  that he was her first love and not the other way round, that some things are best when left incomplete, that starting off on a new note was not possible for them and that they can only be what she had always dreaded the most - "familiar strangers". She took out the battery from her cell phone. As she reached her house, she didn't wait for the servants to serve dinner. She took a bath, switched off the light, popped in some sleeping pills and turned on her favorite symphonica music. Yet, she couldn't stop thinking, how wonderful it might have been if her phone would have rung; she would have dropped everything to answer that call. Just like she used to when she was sixteen. She remembered his eyes. Nut brown, twinkling as though he was a kid. She remembered his touch; warm and affectionate. She closed her eyes.. The sleeping pill had started  showing its effect. Her limpid body laid motionless on the round bed. Her senses over powered by sleep. She didn't call him. The phone didn't ring that night. She didn't switch it on for two days. The first thing she did after coming back to her senses was to ensure that his number had found a way out of her phone. Yet, it didn't. It stayed there. A different name, a blacklist and a memory that refused to forget some ten digits.

Seven thousand miles away..

As a wilted carnition caught his attention, his mind raced back to a long gone era. A man of twenty three, Arnab was a serial entrepreneur. All day long he had felt an unrest streaking within him. He tried to dissuade himself from believing that he was missing someone. He thought he had succeeded. But seeing the wilted carnition, an eternal symbol of unrequited love, a face flashed in front of his eyes. He sat on a wooden bench, underneath a maple tree, watching the ducks struggling to maintain a calm pace above water. He felt like a duck. All the world saw of him was his calm exterior, no one ever cared to empathize with those pangs of grief that he often battled and tried to over come. He picked up the carnition. After twirling it between his fingers, he noticed the orangish crowning in the clouds. The sun was forming a beautiful ring around the clouds. The sky seemed to be touching the lake and the tree formed a brown carpet of maple leaves and a canopy over his head. As the unrest grew, he finally took out his phone and decided to dial her number. "The number you are trying to reach is not reachable at the moment. Please try later." And so he did. For one and a half day. Every time her phone returned the same message. He finally decided to stop. "She has moved on. She doesn't love me anymore. I shouldn't not call her up and make it difficult for her to move on. I don't know why I even tried to contact her in the first place.." Deep within, he knew he was missing her. But his ego and his schedule would not allow him to waste another day trying to call her. If only he knew that she was right there, waiting for him. That he was and will always be her number one.

 A never dialed number,
a discharged battery,
an auburn evening in two different parts of the world,
 sleep that didn't come easy,
leisure that didn't stay long,
time- that was the rarest commodity,
words that were never spoken, feelings that grew unabated,
and a story - that always remained incomplete.

The mistake is yours: For the choices you've made, for the bridges you've burnt.

There she was. Alone and desolate. She was struggling for something. A remedy, a helping hand, anything. But she knew that the struggle would do no good.Somewhere, she was sure she deserved it.So what do you do when you are so confused that you end up losing your paradise, twice? Do you forgive yourself and  move on or do you keep holding on to the bits and pieces of the once perfect dream, hoping that you won't have to face the consequences of the choices you made, choices that had dramatic consequence? This is no movie, there won't be a happy ending. The choice was always yours, you made the wrong one. You burnt the wrong bridges, now you are stuck in an island so forlorn that any trace of relief sounds like a bizarre, far fetched cry. So what stops you from crying now? Your ego? Yes, may be. You valued it more than you valued anyone. Or wait, was it your inability to communicate? Well, you'll never find out. And that is your punishment. For  making the wrong choices. Now you are alone. Struggling for relief, waiting for another chance. But you know you won't have another chance. You'll sail through your life and say it was "destined to happen. You were destined to stay alone." Days will go by, like sand flows through a sand glass. Nothing will change. Salvation is and will always be a far fetched cry. You'll get what you deserve: Here if your boat, no you won't get any oars.The earth is round, sail your way out of this soledad's river.


Notes :
Soledad means "lonely place" in spanish.

A tiny tale : The Visitor

One stormy night there was a knock at his door. His  heart was roaring with fear and legs were trembling out of weakness, he opened the door.The moonlight shone and draped the visitors face with an unexplainable hue of melancholy . Tears mingled with raindrops rolled down his face. The visitor joined his palms, and before breaking into tears he murmured  "Forgive me". A thud, and he was on the floor.

The visitor  had eloped with the owner's wife after gifting  him  an ugly scar. The owner spent his life hiding from the world.The scar drew pity from many, at times it drew terrified glances. So he locked himself in the house for the rest of his life. For the world , he was 'dead'.

The man on the floor was ego,
apologizing to the owner of the old house, his name was "relation".
"How is she ?" the owner asked. He still missed her, "words".
"She is dead". The visitor declared,his eyes burnt up with guilt and the last thing he saw was the  weak rage in the old man's eyes, before the shovel penetrated his chest. The visitor had finally received his reward.

That strange friend named "Ego" : A short story.

Ego is a strange thing. It doesn't change what you feel , but it ensures in its own sweet way that you proceed towards self destruction.It ensures your withdrawal from the world , from your close one's , from people who mattered.
It would be the last time , she had thought. Not until she had had that conversation , had she realized that she was one self concieted woman , who placed her ego before every one , before everything.But he had made her act in ways she never thought she would. That she , Marisa D'souza , would fight so hard to keep him close. He ,who had triggered the series of unsupressable emotions. But how could she tell him , when she knew that the words that had escaped her mouth that evening , were too harsh to be taken back. But she wished she could. Because with every lup dup of her heart , it was getting difficult for her to anticipate if he would ever come back.
"Guess what Selva ? Even if we were the last humans on the earth , I'll never chose you. Even if I don't have a choice" Her comment was met with series of shrieking silence.But now she wished she could take them back. She tried to tell him , tried to get their friendship back on track , tried to forget that they'd had a moment a lifetime ago.She failed. For his ego was big enough to block away emotions. Why wouldn't he , when his were denied so blatantly , in a ruthless way.Yet, he wished , wished to talk to her the way they used to , wished to laugh at her silly gestures , wished to take a walk to the metro station like they used to. He tried to tell her , tell her that he was sorry , but he had a friend named ego. And every time his once best friend 'heart' made him so restless as to pick up his phone and talk to her , his new best friend named 'ego' would snatch it from his hand , remind him that she thought he was not good enough. If only this friend really knew him. The once best friend kept on whispering "Go to her , she must be waiting for you to contact her. May be she is too scared to contact you. May be she never meant those words. May be she is not an egotist as she claimed to be. May be , just may be , she wants to tell you innumerable things." But he ignored "what could be". He saw what was , and yet was invisible. He held his new best friends hand , wallked on , walked away.
There , she kept on wondering how after everything that had happened , he made everything look so easy.How easily she gave up her ego to bring him back in her life but he took no notice. He walked away. "May be" , she thought "I was right. I am a self concieted woman. A woman who can never be good enough for anyone.How I wish I could tell him , tell him that I would chose him even if I don't have a choice."
Despite everything they thought , every unwanted emotion that clogged their mind , nothing severed the ego from their existence.Life moved on and unjumbled verses and incomplee dreams became an inseperable part of their life. Alas , their once best friend grew week and died. However the sin it had committed , lived on after its death. The mark it had left on their life , they could never erase it ,  no matter how hard they tried. They learnt to live with it. With the offspring of their once  best friend. They named it "Regret"