Thought I would give the flaggers something to work on....a little piece of fiction, written for the mere sake of writing.....

On the horizon, the sun was setting. And in my own life, a chapter was coming to a close. I took a rick to the next block, where I was to meet Rohan. Rohan was getting married in two weeks time, and I felt relaxed, contrary to all the times we had met before. I was early and as I waited for him, I thought back to all those times we had spent together. That was such a long time ago. And yet, as the darkness blurred my present, those moments felt so near I could almost touch them.

Life has its ironies. Sometimes, love blossoms in the most hostile of circumstances. We had spent a good part of our relationship, oblivious to the existence of our relationship. We would mail each other and talk to each other, and yet, we never attributed much significance to our relationship. We weren’t consistent either. And yet, at some point, love just creeped in. We felt something….something that was so hard to define. Something had changed in the course of our relationship. I had begun to finally take notice of our conversations. Anxiety creeped into my mind for no obvious reason and I found myself constantly interpreting our conversations and interactions….I found myself all worked up if I didn’t hear from him. I realized that he had found his way into my heart. I was both excited and nervous.

On an evening when black clouds built up in the sky, we were seated on the stone bench, and I was crying. “I feel very strongly for you. And yet, I feel at times that we are incompatible in some ways”, he was saying. I looked at him through my tears. His eyes softened. I put my hand past him to grab the tissues to wipe my tears, and found myself in a tight embrace. “I wanted the tissues”, I found myself saying, almost in a whisper. My tears stopped, and I just stayed in his embrace, resting my head against his chest. I didn’t want to move, partly because I was startled by his gesture, and partly because it felt so good to be there. I found my chin being lifted against him and I felt his lips on mine. I submitted to that kiss like a little child would. He suddenly drew himself away and looked at me. I had stopped crying. “I am sorry”, he said. That evening, I had driven back home in the rain, listening to cascades. That evening, my mother saw in my eyes a glow she had never seen before; I am sure she knew instantly that I was in love….for the first time.

There were more memories- some happy and some painful.... We had never really fought. But we were incompatible. Sometimes I don’t even know what that means ….

I suddenly became aware of his familiar figure walking towards me. Habitually, I felt butterflies in my tummy. He stood in front of me, 6 foot tall, and smiled at me. The butterflies disappeared, as if by magic. I felt very relaxed and smiled back. He led the way and we booked a table at the restaurant. Sitting opposite each other, I was bewildered by the peculiar mix of emotions I felt. I guess I was expecting a transformed Rohan. In two weeks time, he was getting married. I was perhaps expecting him to talk excitedly about his fiancé, his dreams and hopes, his wedding, and all that was part of being the prospective groom. But what was it I read in his eyes? He looked at me just as he had looked at me all those years ago, when I was a part of his world....when I was his world.
Perhaps I talked more. I talked about my life; never once did I touch upon his marriage. Not that it hurt, but since he refused to touch upon it, I didn’t want to.

When we were done with dinner, I wanted to leave. I had loved this evening- loved his presence….loved the ease with which conversation came….loved the togetherness. I wanted to leave because I didn’t want to give myself the opportunity to long for more. My mind was at peace with his marriage, and I didn’t want to break that peace. And yet, when he insisted on a stroll, I found myself complying. We walked in silence, lost in distant memories. The cool night air imparted a lingering freshness. He stopped abruptly and looked at me. I looked up at him. “I want to take you home”, he said. “Won’t I get late?” I felt obliged to ask. “I will drop you home”, he said. I nodded. To walk with him by my side, and to go home together, was a part of my dreams a long time ago.

When we reached his house, I became tight-lipped for some strange reason. We sat opposite each other, and he leaned against his couch, while I fumbled with a cushion, and looked away. The silence felt eerie. I looked at him once or twice and then looked away. He said nothing, and continued to fix his gaze on me. Eventually, he walked up to me and took my hands in his. I stood up, unsure of what was on his mind. He took me in his arms and hugged me. I felt calm and relaxed as I rested my head against his chest. He held me very close to him, ran his fingers over my hair and then kissed me on my head. I felt like a baby, and behaved like one. I rattled on at random, unsure of what I really wanted to say, until I got fascinated by a crease on his T-shirt. He watched me meddle with it, and when I looked up at him, I saw the fondness in his eyes. He sat down and he made me sit on his lap. I continued to talk, and he smiled the smile of someone who listens fondly, absorbing all the emotion, excitement and expression, but failing to have grasped a word of what was being said. At length, I paused, and he kissed me yet again on my head. Then he kissed me on my cheek. And then he traced my lips with his fingers, brought me close and kissed me on my lips so very slowly. I was dazed, but I responded. After a long kiss that seemed to have flooded life into my very soul, we drew our faces apart and looked into each others’ eyes. “Why can’t I understand you? Why are we like this?” he asked. I wondered if it mattered any more. He then lifted me and carried me in his arms to the bedroom. He had promised me that a long time ago- that he would carry me to my bed every night and tuck me in to sleep. He put me on the bed and kissed me. “Are you happy?” I found myself asking him. “I don’t know”, he said. “That’s what you always say”, I said. “And that is the truth….I don’t seem to understand a lot many things that happen around me and in my own life”, he said. As he kissed me, tears streamed down my face. “Does my marriage hurt you?” he asked. “No”, I said. And I meant it. He doesn’t know what he wants….and I don’t want him when he doesn’t really know. That night, we slept in each others’ embrace. At some point, I woke up to find that he had encircled his arm around me, and my head rested beneath his chin. I moved a little, and he drew me back, his eyes still closed, and kissed me on my head.

Next morning, when we said goodbye, I felt a strange peace. Perhaps I had lived my lifetime in a day.

Rohan never called me after that. I wasn’t around for his wedding. Two years after his wedding, I met him. As we sat across each other at the café, I found in those eyes something opaque and cold. They had stopped talking. It was as if a dream had died in those eyes…a flame had extinguished. When we said goodbye, he kissed me on my cheek. It felt cold. I withdrew, said goodbye and walked out into the night.

Tags: fiction