"To Zoli la..."

 

"To bon la? Asser aster..."

Everywhere I see
Everywhere I step
My vision is poisoned
I stumble and fall
On my own footsteps...

Everywhere I glance,
Everywhere I wander,
I fall flat on my nose
I feel so blind suddenly...

The breathtaking sunset
The fresh dews, the luring sun
All become stale, rotten and dull
It smells weird, like 'fromaz gaté'

Oh yes, everywhere I swerve
Everywhere I glance
I all but feel nauseated
The feeling of 'Kraaz partou' overpowered

Lost in their own worlds,
Absorbed in their textos,
Crazy about their looks,
"Ey, mo bon la? Mo sévé? Mo linz?"

All I do is roll my tiny eyes,
and shoot them indifference
Everywhere I see...
OMG, they're all around!

Two steps under the sun,
And here they go...Again,
"Ayo, mo pe vin nwar"
As my Dadi would have said
"Bandar kya jaané adkrak ka swaad"

Blessed by a few lovely drops,
Oh Holy-Shit, they are melting!
No, save them someone!
Get them towels, waterproof make-up

Everywhere I glance,
Everywhere I wander,
I fall flat on my nose
I feel so blind and so "Arghhh"

* Thank you Sultana for the Title! ;)

 

Where Fate intervenes...

Three days of bliss, three days of tiny moments of pleasure, contemplation and pure delight. I had merely three days to live for myself before being thrusted back in the world of responsibilities, tension and work. Three days…and I resolved to cherish each and every moment available and live them as a dream in quest of fulfillment before stepping back into the acrid world of reality. And thus began a journey of apprehension, restlessness, silence, unclaimed feelings and love. A journey which filled in me life, tangible life. I lived, in the true sense of the word; I lived for myself, with myself. It was a moment of discovery, of re-discovering my self, my feelings and my desires.

Day 1

No way! No way that I was to spend the ‘peanuts’ holidays I got at home. I picked up the phone and contacted my aunty Sarah who lives in the chilled area of Nouvelle Decouverte. She was excited to hear that I am planning a stay at her place for the weekend. I picked a few jeans and some colourful long-sleeved tops, some books, a few DVD films and other uninteresting stuffs that my aunt told me to bring along. Her house was located at the highest point of the village. It was a place engulfed in greenery-forest, vegetation, sugarcane plantation and orchards. In winter, the orchards are greener than ever and the humid soil makes the atmosphere alike to living in Forks (Twilight’s main location). As the not-so-crowded bus meandered its way through the narrow streets of Nouvelle Decouverte, I realized that I have not visited this place for more than a year. Swallowed up in studies and my own life, I never had time to visit my aunt. A wave of guilt brushed me and I made up my mind that I will try to compensate the lost time in those three days. From the bus stop, there was a distance of 100 meters to cover on foot. I picked up my bag, opened my umbrella and walked. The atmosphere was filled with chlorophyll which urged me to breathe the freshness of the air as much as possible. Huge trees decorated the road on both sides; the wet soil and the rain soiled the road. I had to take special care to step aside whenever a vehicle was coming from the opposite direction. Aunty Sarah was waiting for me on the terrace. My eyes blurred with unwelcomed tears as soon as she loomed in my vision. She was happy to see me and I was happy to finally see her. I ran to hug her and in this urge, I unintentionally hurt her with my umbrella. Oh! How I missed her! She has been as supportive as a mum whenever I needed an ear to listen to me or a shoulder to cry on. As I settled down, she informed me about the plan for the weekend. When she talked, it dawned on me that she so resembled my mother:  her voice, her physical appearance, her smile, her eyes, the glimmer in her gaze...I fought hard to stop an uncontrolled drop of tear breaking out from my eyes. I listened to her attentively, paying attention to her voice, and the intensity hidden in it, while my mind swayed into the past, catching glimpses of her when she was younger and healthier as well as my childhood days I spent here along with other cousins.

 The rain had not stopped and the atmosphere was foggy, the street lights were still on and the chirping of the birds heightened the magical intensity of this Friday. We spent the day talking, eating and watching T.V. In fact, the T.V only helped in weaving the conversation further. I talked about my studies, my life, my responsibilities and I caught Aunty lending her ear so attentively, as if she was my student and I was the strict teacher who would punish her if I caught her straying her attention away. When she talked about her life which she has been treading on alone since her husband met with an accident and since my cousin-brother left to pursue his studies abroad, I recognized the layers of loneliness hidden in her narrative, how much she craved to be listened to.  Thus ended a long day filled with bliss and memorable snatches of conversation. When I settled in the bed next to her, I so wanted to hold her and sleep. I have been missing this attachment for too long now. The night was silent but was occasionally disturbed by swishes of wind. I slept like a baby that day. I felt protected and safe. But still, in the midst of all these happiness, my heart was still restless, as if it searched for yet another reason to be happy.

Day 2

Still deeply submerged in a soothing sleep, I could hear the dim radio playing in the background which indicated that my aunt was awake. I tried to guess the time but quickly shunned away that idea. I heard the sound of the door opening and I assumed that someone might have dropped in. But there was no sound of voices conversing which followed and I assumed again that it might be aunty who went out. After what seemed to be a few minutes later, I was disturbed by a soft but pleasing cold air. It settled on my cheek and found its way down my neck. I sensed a chill sensation down my spine. With a slight movement, I turned my face away. This is when I sensed a presence in the room. I kept my eyes closed, my sleep fading away little by little. I controlled my breathing and kept thinking about who was in my room, despite the fact that I knew that there could possibly be no one apart from my aunt. When I sensed something brushing against my hair, I opened my eyes inquisitively. The bright morning light burnt my vision but when I retrieved my composure, a knot formulated itself in my throat, preventing me from breathing. I caught my breath for a few seconds, and tried hard enough to swallow that gulp. I smiled back absentmindedly and in a fraction of second it dawned on me that Al was in the room, early morning, dressed formally (which upon seeing, I assumed he was going to work). His right hand brushed my hair softly and his left hand reposed itself on the edge of the bed. His gaze fixed on mine. I wanted to say so many things, I knew he wanted to say things too, but I guess the silence and the language of the gaze said it all. His hand traced an invisible line down my cheek and he handed me a sealed envelope, smiled his big fat smile, winked at me and left. I was dumbfounded. My heart was pounding, perspiration accumulated on my forehead. Suddenly, in this chilled winter morning, I felt suffocatingly  hot. My feelings were ambivalent, questions were overflowing from every corner of my mind. Thoughts fought their way out while I tried to compose myself. I breathed all the nervousness out, sat with legs folded on the bed, the envelope in my hands, eyes fixed on his still amazing handwriting. “Read and text me now.” The letters intersected each other, as if in a hurry to deliver a meaning to the reader.

I waited for the uneven heartbeats to even themselves, opened the envelope with trembled fingers and found myself facing a pale blue folded paper. I was so engrossed in myself that I hardly noticed aunty entering the room with a smile that told me everything that her mind harbored. I knew she would ask me about Al. At that moment, realization dawned on me that this is what was missing last night. My happiness was incomplete, my heart searched for another reason to be happy. This was the reason. Al was the reason. I nodded absentmindedly, almost stunned by my own oblivion. How did it slip off my mind that Al stays just beside my aunty, and my decision to spend the holidays here was involuntarily masked by the desire to face him and spend some time with him. I ignored the presence of my aunt in the room, who was now going through the DVDs I brought from home. I opened the letter and read along:

Hello Liya!

I will pick you up at 3 p.m today for a drive and then dinner. I have Aunty’s permission so you better stop thinking of saying “No” to me.

Be ready! We need to catch up!

Kisses!

Ali.

I folded the paper and caught my aunty scrutinizing my expressions. I smiled back in a hurry to redress the over-expressive expressions. She sat on the edge of the bed, took my hands in hers and said: “Aliyah, give yourself a chance. Go and find out what is in his heart…and in yours too…” I avoided her eyes and looked away. I could not say a word. I could not assert the love I have for him as well as the crave I harbored to know what is in his heart…and in mine too. She forced me to look at her and agree to whatever she said. She kissed me on my forehead and told me to come up for breakfast. I nodded and waited until she left the room. Hearing her spongy footsteps fading away, I opened the letter again and read it over and over again. My mind was juggling with my heart. The same turmoil. The same unconcealed dilemma. Again. I picked up my phone and thought of what to type, until I sent him a pathetic “Hello, I’ll wait for you. TC” Unsatisfied, I got out of the bed. 

I was soon stressed out on what to wear and what not to. Aunty wanted me to deck up as much as I could. I felt the sudden feeling that she wanted me to ‘please’ him and I laughed at her effort. Still, I kept it simple. I had no intention of pleasing whosoever. I was ‘me’ and it has always been difficult for me to carry fakeness all over. I glanced at my attire in the mirror and pushed out a gush of satisfaction. I was happy with my white dress and blue trousers and my lovely heels. Aunty lent me her blue necklace with a tiny butterfly hanging at the end. I was lovely. I was happy. But the restlessness crept in too suddenly. When we heard the car stopping in front of the gate, my aunt ran to open the door, went out of the terrace and waved at him. I panicked unnecessarily when I saw Aunty getting more excited than me for this ‘date’. Did I just say ‘date’? No, this was not a date. We were just going for a small drive, a quick dinner and we’ll be back. I convinced myself with an unconvincing voice. I walked fretfully to the gate, waved with a tinge of guilt in my heart to my aunt, thinking that I was supposed to spend my holidays with her and not with ‘him’. 

As soon as I got into the car, his perfume overpowered my senses. Chanel. The blue bottle which was gifted to him by a common friend. I smiled. He smiled back and said: “You look…beautiful!” I was shockingly shy. I threw a merciless ‘Thank you’, forgot to return the compliment and stared at the moving trees outside. I wondered endlessly about the pressing thoughts in his heart which were transforming into undelivered words on his lips. I heard him clearing his voice several times, his breathing unevenly arranged with a shade of hesitation. Maybe this was why I felt the urge of not staying at home, that is why I wanted to come over here, this is where the whole process of restlessness, confusion and unclaimed feelings started. I needed to find an answer. I was so lost in trying to understand the maze of thoughts of my mind, that for one second I forgot that I was not alone. I retrieved my senses and dressed my composure. I was there, he was there too. The moment was ours. This is all I wanted to feel.

I listened to him while he was telling me about his work, his colleagues and his life. I realized how much I missed this moment, of me and him together, talking about anything, but together. This is what has always matter. We being together. I realized that he has grown into a gentleman and this thought placed a silly smile on my face. We reached the beach by 5.30. The sun was about to set. The golden sky picturized the whole atmosphere as a bride about to leave her house to enter a totally new world. I breathed in and caught particles of the salty water on my nostrils. We admired the enthralling picturesque view for some minutes in silence. This silence was miraculously beautiful. There was no need to make recourse of words to express our feelings, the silence said it all. I remembered the night we spent at the beach, the same atmosphere, the same silence, the same feelings rejuvenated more strongly at this moment. I watched Al as he forwarded his steps, as if enchanted by the beauty of the setting sun. I followed him, still beguiled by the beauty of Nature. We stopped for a while and I realized that Al was wearing his glasses. I placed my hand on his shoulder and stopped him from going further. He swerved back, almost confused. I caught a strange soothing feeling on his face, as if this was the best moment so far in his life. He looked at me, his gaze locked in mine. I moved my hands over his face and took out his glasses and said: “Your eyes are wonderful.” He smiled and his eyes glimmered with joy. The golden rays of the sun illuminated his eyes. I was mesmerized by the beautiful human being standing right in front of me. I chuckled, lowered my gaze and walked. He followed. A few more couples came for jogging and some youngsters were having a good time with some beer and music. I stopped to take my heels out of my feet. The sand was fresh, almost humid. The breeze strengthened as the sky darkened itself. The consecutive changes in colour made the atmosphere even more romantic. The swishing waves in locomotion, a few snatches of conversation, the breeze and the chirping birds filled the air. Al stopped and swerved back. He forwarded his hand and I held it. We walked in silence, admiring the beauty of the setting sun, feeling each other and loving the mood. I inclined my body on his left side, held his hand tightly walked along the beach. Al leaned his head on mine and whispered: "I think I am incomplete without you Aliyah, I don't know how to say that but my life is senseless without you around". He waited to see my expressions, confused and a little bit nervous. I lifted my head, smiled and whispered: "I know what you mean Ali." He smiled for he knew what I meant.

I needed to captivate this moment for longer in my memories. I recalled the last time he held my hand out of surprise, without any reason and we walked in silence. But this time it was different, because we both realized that we needed each other and that it was useless to run away from each other. I was happy, there was nothing missing. Nothing at all! At that moment, I realized that this was all what I needed. I needed him by my side forever. I felt secured and blessed. 

My Broken Mirror

The day is normal. I wake up, walk to my bathroom in a state of post-sleep and the first thing I do, or I see is me...in the mirror. 

There is a time when you finally come to terms with the fakeness of everything around you: people, places, beliefs, words, emotions, smiles and tears and you realize that you have been living a bogus life so far. This moment of madness or enlightenment may strike a person anytime, anywhere. The person becomes aware of his self and shuns away the world and its allies. This moment struck me recently, or was I stricken by the moment? I feel empty, empty of life, empty of feelings, empty of comprehension. I don’t understand myself or I do not wish to understand. This inner turmoil is creating a literal hurly burly of feelings inside me. I want to express myself; I want to ‘vomit’ every single residue of this dilemma. But I fear…I fear myself, I fear the world, I fear being questioned, I fear being misunderstood, I fear being eyed with suspicion.  What writing was for me earlier, it no more is now. I fear writing. I fear voicing out my opinions and my feelings, for fear of rejection, for fear of manipulation. This world is too cruel, too selfish, and too busy to listen to you. And yeah, I fear being left out unheard. But I have to write. This is the only way I can empty myself. I observe these days; I am lost in my own complicated world. What made me into such a person? Was I always like this? Maybe the change happened in me aeons ago, but it is now that I am facing it. Is it the degree that I am studying at the University made me into such a person? What kind of a person I have become? What kind of a person I was initially? Questions, questions and questions! But, no answers! Are there really no answers, or is it that I am too impure to see them? Education purged the simplicity in me. I am no more the person I was. I think too much, I analyze way too much, I question every petty and stupid thing. Feelings are rendered nude with scrutiny. Words are powered with Standardization. I hate making grammatical mistakes. I am irritated when I hear or see a grammatical error and until I do not correct it, I am not at ease with myself.  Studying, studying and studying all day, all night. For what purpose? I don’t know. Well, I do. I am supposedly studying ‘so hard’ because I want to work and earn money. Money, the nucleus of modern life. Am I happy with what I am doing? Yes! No! Maybe! Am I happy because I am at ease with myself in the midst of my friends? Am I happy because I am able to construct a secure identity of myself, at home and at University? But what am I in my private sphere, away from home, away from class? What am I? Who am I? Why this sudden urge to question everything around me? And if I had to question, then why writing it down? Am I writing because I want people to listen to me? Is there anyone on earth who listens to me? If there is, does that person understand me? Why do I expect that my listener understands me? Why should he/she listen to me anyway? Questions, questions and questions! No Fucking answers!

The day is normal. I wake up, walk to my bathroom in a state of post-sleep and the first thing I do, or I see is me. The 'me' is unusual. I see many 'me(s)'. The mirror is broken. I see myself in the hundred of pieces of mirror shattered into smithereens. Everytime...it is a new 'me' A new 'me' in every broken mirror.

Destiny's Playfulness

Rain has not been stopping since yesterday, making the atmosphere moist, chilly and filling the air with lethargy. Despite being fully conscious of the load of work awaiting me, I woke up with a feeling of laziness. Alone at home, I slept longer than usual and decided to bunk my lectures. The sound of the dripping drops of rain rhythmically enthralled me to deeper sleep. Waking up at nine, it looked as if time has stopped moving. It was still so dark outside and the rain continued to enhance the beauty of nature. I prepared myself a king-sized breakfast, switched on the TV, sat on the floor with some cushions to ease my back and enjoyed the food. I was about to finish my breakfast when my mobile phone rang. Unexpectedly, it was Dad at the other end of the phone. I listened carefully, caught the radio playing in the background and some giggles, which I assumed were that of his colleagues. I kept the phone and murmured to myself: “You spoilt my day Dad!” I sighed, sipped some coffee and pondered over the words of my dad. My aunt is to move in her new house at Phoenix today. She has left a few of her belongings in her old garage and wanted my dad to help her moving them in today. But Dad is busy in a meeting with the marketing manager and wanted me to help my aunt instead. He has already talked to my uncle who will pick me up in 15 minutes. I nodded absentmindedly... "And I thought I would stay at home, watched the rain, enjoyed some wonderful food, sleep and pamper myself! Wow! Thank you Dad!" Rolling my eyes, murmuring stuffs to myself, I walked in my room. I was still in my pyjama and Uncle would be arriving soon. 

 I waited near the large window in my living room, facing the porch. Drops of rain meandered their ways down the window pane. There was no sign of the usual blue sky, the road was filled with water, mothers walked carefully, protecting their child, clad in colourful raincoat,  on the way to school.  I saw a white car in front of my porch, which, to my amazement, looked new. My uncle was here. I picked up my phone, my handbag, my umbrella, walked out of the house, closed and locked the door behind me. I stopped under the veranda, lost in some what-to-do-next thought. The car was about 15 steps away and the rain was not going to stop for me. I realized I was wearing a simple white Kurti and a pair of Jeans. Basically, straining my mind to think of a stratagem in any situation you might think of always forces me to sacrifice my long nurtured desires. This time,  I was not going to accept defeat. I did not bother to open my umbrella, walked in the rains, without thinking of my dress, my hair or any other thing. Oh rain, soothing and blissful! I urged my steps to slow down to enjoy the touch of each drop on my face. I looked up and blinked at each drop falling on my face, until I arrived at the car. I opened the front door, bent down my body, careful with my head, took a seat and greeted my Uncle without looking at him. At that moment, everything seemed normal. I was at home, I got a call and now I'm on my way to help my aunt. Nothing on earth gave me a hint that this would be the most beautiful moment in my life, or maybe, just another turn of Fate’s Wheel, just another moment of emotional turmoil and ‘loud silence’. When it dawned on me that the driver was not my uncle, I literally forgot to breathe. I sensed my heart pumping harder and harder every second. Heat conquered my body. My vision, blurred. I wanted to open the door and get out of the car, but it was too late to formulate an idea. 


 Words struggled out of my mouth and metamorphosed into a cracked voice: “I guess, you thought to help Uncle and came to pick me up instead, right?” I know, I was sarcastic.


“Hmm, well, to say the truth, I heard your Dad talking to my Dad on the phone, and thought to help you out as I was free…” He explained breathlessly, as if he learnt these lines by heart. 


 I struggled to keep my heartbeat firm, I fought hard to bring out words to speak, and they came out as cracked sounds. I knew he was staring at me again and the same surge of uneasiness encroached me. I avoided his gaze as far as possible, glaring outside the window: another moment of Fate’s sudden Turn of affairs, another I-don’t-know-what-to-do moment, another moment of unusual silence... voicing out many untold feelings. Oh! How I hate this situation! I sat unmoved, all dripping, scrutinized every of my movements, weighed my words a thousand times before projecting them, fought the millions of thoughts that came juggling in my mind at one go and in the midst of this dilemma, I forgot to breathe…again. 


 Al was sitting beside me the day when I decided to drop my lectures, the day which I thought would be just like any other day, the day when I got drenched like a stupid girl without knowing that H.E was actually driving the car. He was taking me to my aunt, he would be with me the whole day, we would be talking or maybe just waiting for each other to talk. “Thank You Dad!” I muttered again. 


The atmosphere was foggy and I realized that what seemed to be a day-in-the-bed turned out to be surprisingly romantic. This thought brought a smile to my face and when I realized that he was smiling too, I quickly retrieved back my controlled position. 


 “So…You love the weather?” He started (Thank God, he talked)


 “Uhh, Yeah…” I shot out, aware of the silly impression I was creating. 


He stretched him arm at the back seat and handed me a towel: “Here, wipe your hair, else you’ll catch a cold.” 


Plunged into deep thoughts, I smiled unconsciously while wiping my hair. His voice purged the stream of my thoughts and I realized that I have not heard of him since two months. 


“So, how are you? I heard you are not taking care of yourself these days? Heard that from Mom!” His eyes met mine but I quickly looked away and answered casually: “Sleeping late at night everyday, else I’m ok…So, what’s up?...” 


 Thus started another journey, which seemed full of life, another opportunity to be with him. No one knew what was going to happen at the end of the day. But one thing was for sure, I was with him, not by choice but by destiny and maybe this is how things were meant to be. I composed myself, forgot my hesitation for a while and dipped in the conversation again.

Words v/s Silence

On a moonlit night, walking along in synthesis with the waves in constant locomotion, I watched the stars glimmering and thought about all the things that happened to me in the past few days. A week filled with emotional cataclysm and unfathomable overflow of feelings. A heavy sigh skipped my mouth. I closed my eyes, listened to the swishing waves battling on the shore. I caught a few scratches of conversation from families camping on the beach as I walked past them. I stopped and walked closer to the sea, lifted my skirt and forwarded my bare feet to feel the chilled water. I stood there for about fifteen minutes, holding my sandals with one hand and lifting my skirt with the other. Forelocks bothered my sight. The atmosphere was serene, almost heavenly. I glanced at the moon, now shadowing itself under some black clouds. The little mind I have was juggling with numerous routes of thoughts. Confused of which route to undertake, I left it on my instinct to decide. Memories of the past days fuelled my mind again and as always, I felt a strange unexplained soreness in my heart. Memories that kept me smiling out of nowhere, for no logical reason, I knew that I could not control its flow and I did not even try controlling them. I sensed a few drops of rain crashing on my body; I waited in vain to enjoy the coldness of the rain. The wind grew stronger for a while and spoiled my hair again, I tried to avoid them flowing on my face by swerving my body against the wind. I lost hand of the time it was, I guess I have been walking for too long. I thought of my family back in the tent and decided to go back. I walked a few steps and stopped to wear my sandals. I sensed a presence behind me. At that time, I thought it must be either my imagination or just the result of the wind but there was actually someone. I turned back, let go of my skirt and scrutinized the familiar face in the dark. I did not have to make an extra effort to know that the 'familiar face' was Al. I somewhat sensed his presence when I left my tent to walk on the beach but I dropped this feelings thinking that it must be because I’m craving to talk to him. We needed to talk, that was true. We needed to talk about me, about him, about 'us'. I watched him in consternation for a few seconds, controlled my emotions, faked a curious smile and asked him: “You? At this time? Why?” The answer was stereotypical. Well, I would have said the same thing also: “I’m not asleep, so came out for a walk…alone!"  I caught him looking at me in a weird way. I avoided his gaze and walked. He followed and walked beside me. There were so many things to say, but the pin drop silence said many things we would never say to each other. I enjoyed the silence, much to my dismay. I felt the atmosphere complete now. I wonder what happened to us. Maybe, we were enjoying the calmness and the expressive atmosphere, as words would destroy its purity. But, on the other hand, I was very disappointed with myself. I said nothing, not a word, just a few ‘Hmm’ and some ‘Yeah’ when he shot his silly questions about the food we had or the dress I was wearing, until we were at about a hundred meters away from the camp. My hands moved forth and back slowly as I walked. My right hand hit his left hand a few times. The first time this happened, I withdrew my hands and folded it under my breasts. But then, my uncivilized forelocks forced me to unfold my hands and let them hanging on each side again, so that I could control my forelocks everytime they turned wild. Still no words crossed my lips and he remained bound in his awkward silence too. Maybe words were falling flat and that there was nothing more significant than this moonlit night, the bride-like adorned sky and 'us'. I sensed warmth on my hands and it took me no longer to realize that Al was holding my hand. I breathed. Controlled my composure. Thought of the words I would tell him, but could not compose anything reliable. I let my instinct play the game…again, despite knowing that I am always betrayed by my own voice. I looked at him, trying to find an answer to this action of his. His eyes were blank, or too deep that I could not figure anything his heart harbored. Was that an answer in disguise? But I always fail in reading between the lines. A few more steps until I reach my tent. That tiny moment seemed like ages. My heart was in turmoil, I did not know how to react. His tent was a few steps away from mine, he stopped in front of my tent, let go of my hand, squeezed my right cheek (Like you do to a chubby little baby) and said: “I had a nice time. Good night!” I smiled, not knowing what to say. I decided to say a few things but stopped for fear of not be able to transform my thoughts into the right words. I looked at him, still puzzled, muttered a ‘goodnight’ and unexpectedly kissed him on his cheek, not waiting for his reaction, entered my tent, listened to his fading footsteps and kept thinking about what just happened until the first rays of the sun hit the shore.

Concealed feelings...Unconcealed!

30^th December 2011. The night was silent. All I could hear was the far away mechanic who was still working at this time of the night. The day had been long and wearisome. Preparations to welcome the New Year have been going on since the start of the month, but today was the ‘closing’ shopping day. Suffocating sunny day, mushrooming crowd and inexplicable rush on the streets of Port Louis added flavor to my day, and here I am, tired and heavy legs paining. I sat in front of my PC, surfed on the net quickly for the daily dose of social networking. Some casual hellos, replies to a few notifications, some stalking process and I was bored. Little did I know that this so-called boring night would turn into something I never expected. Of course, I did think about it, but I never ever thought that it would happen. Al was online and he wanted to chat. Nothing much unwanted or unexpected about it. But that night, when it dawned on me that he wanted to chat, my heart skipped a beat. The chat window popped up with a funny sound that echoed in my ears.

“Hello sweety! U mind we talk on Skype, Lazy to type out here”

I stared at the screen, controlled my breath, noticed that the pace of my heartbeat was increasing slowly and then typed back:

“Hey hi! Uhh, Dad is in the same room, lets chat plz”

A tinge of guilt settled on my face, I lied beautifully.

I sat back, stretched my aching legs and hoped that he is as tired as me, so that this conversation ends quickly. One hour, another half an hour, another fifteen minutes, he talked and I listened, affirming my presence with a “hmm”, “ok”, “is it?” “lol”, “haha”. Boredom jabbed me, I thought of another lie to get out of here, but soon dropped this idea. All this while, he was recalling the moments he spent with his girl friend, the acrid ache she gifted him in return of all the love he gave her. From his words, I knew he was still hurt. Almost one whole year flew away, but memories are still sharp and clear. I lent him an attentive ear, shared his sorrows and gave him my support, as I usually do. This was my routine now, to listen to his stories and comfort him. But that night, I wanted to run away. I no more wanted to comfort him and to reassure him that life is beautiful and he should live it, instead of holding on to his past etc etc.

But then, the conversation took another turn and became more interesting, which drew off my boredom. My fingers drove faultlessly on almost every key of the keyboard, thoughts turned into words, expectations were betrayed and words overpowered my feelings. The desire to spit everything out without bothering about the consequences flooded in my veins. The flow was so strong that nothing could stop it. I was determined to voice out everything. EVERYTHING.  I controlled my breath, followed the pace of my heartbeat, until it seemed to be normal. I knew that I was putting everything at stake, my happiness, my peace of mind, his life, our relationship, the festive mood of the End of Year, but I was more than resolved to speak out. I am a complete jerk when it comes to speak out my heart without manipulating my feelings. I did think about speaking out to him, I even rehearsed for that matter, I knew that I would have to do that one day or another, but so soon, that was unexpected. I gathered my thoughts, concocted the right sentences and every time I felt my system going against this strong will of speaking out. I pressed my lips hard, swallowed a deep breath, held it down my throat and typed as fast as I could, and when I was done, I released the breath, reposed my fingers and glared anxiously at the screen for an answer. The belligerence of typing continued until everything I wanted to say was out of my system. 

That night, I told him everything, everything that was meant to be told. Snatching feelings from every corner of my soul, I opened up to him after very long time. I don’t know whether I did the right thing. I don’t know whether things between us will be more complicated after this night. I am lucky to have escaped the facial expression fuss and the face to face dilemma, though I know that I will not be able to flee from it for too long. I wonder how will I react when he will be in front of me and I will be forced to play the “all is well” role for him, for myself and for the family. While typing almost in a state of trance, while I noticed the letters appearing in stocatta on the screen, while I realized that things I never expected to utter were metamorphosing into tangible reality, my heart skipped thousands of beats. All I was aware of was me, my fingers which rushed on the keyboard, my feelings and him. I could sense the weight of my whole body on the tips of my fingers. Hands trembling, lips palpitating, words entangled with thoughts, what to say, what not to say, all came rushing down my finger tips. Every word was weighed, tailored, scrutinized and then delivered. I could not believe I had so much courage flooding down my spine. Part of my brain congratulated me for the wonderful performance I was at, but the other part literally screamed a peel of laughter at me to tell me what a big fool I am. Emotions were ambivalent, sometimes incomprehensible, memories were clear and sharp, fingers navigated through the keyboard faultlessly. I told him everything, everything that he was meant to know.

Al listened to me carefully, without interrupting me. His presence was marked by suspension points to encourage me to say more. I unleashed my concealed feelings, without caring about what will happen. I was putting at stake a whole year of wonderful moments we spent together, I was putting at stake my own happiness,my own peace of mind, knowing that rejection will lead me in a state of utter despair, not for long, but the point is that I will be welcoming New Year with a broken heart. Still, I did not retreat back. Words overpowered my feelings, I was hell bent onto confessing! Confessing about the crime-like thing that I did. Yes, I fell in Love, with him.

The quagmire of fear

Shining proudly on the dark blue sky adorned with glittering stars, the moon looked different, at least to me. I sat on the edge of the balcony and starred blindly at the moon, forgetting about the entire hustle bustle around me. I was at a wedding reception and everyone was either stuck in their own groups gossiping about their dresses and the food or they were busy observing people around them. I unconsciously lifted my veil touching the ground, folded it in my hands and hissed a deep breath. The soft breeze brushed my skin and my hair, sending a sudden shiver down my legs. The soft music fading in the background gave me a feeling of joining the crowd back, but I knew that the crowd would urge in me, the feeling to run away from here. I heard some loud footsteps approaching me, I swerved back to see my dad waving at me. I waved back until he was at arm’s length. He was happy and his eyes portrayed satisfaction. The long awaited moment was here, at this very wedding reception of a family friend, my engagement has been announced. I faked a smile and hid the numerous questions behind the two dimples emerging from my cheeks. Obliging me to come and join the party, I advanced a few forced steps to reach the hall. Some kisses, a few congratulations, some unexpected hugs, a few forged smiles and I reached the arms of the engaged man-my would-be fiancé in a few hours to come. I was thrusted in his arms. I stumbled, stabilized my steps, controlled my breath, met his eyes and grooved badly to the soft romantic music. Our gaze locked for a few more minutes until I lowered mine, almost rejecting his presence. I wanted to disappear from there; I wanted to free myself from his jail like arms and his hypnotic gaze. I closed my eyes fiercely, with the intention of shunning this idea. I swallowed the knot in my throat and breathed. I caught his scent, the same old perfume he has been using for more than sixteen years, and never wanting to change it. Possessive as always. There was a time, a lovely time when I was truly in love with that man, without the expectation of being loved back. Dreaming of having him as my life partner since childhood, grabbing voraciously any opportunity to be by his side, as a friend, and never letting him know that I am so much in love for him, I remain his best friend ever. Was that fear of rejection that forced me to fake my feelings for him? Maybe yes and maybe no, I’m still trying to understand myself. One sudden tear escaped my eye, I was still in his warm arms, I looked at him, his gaze met mine, the tear was unconcealed and was caught red-handed. I closed my eyes, letting the drop of tear finding its way down my cheek. He bent his head and kissed away the tear, obstructing its path. To this, I knew for sure that he would be there to protect me forever, never letting the shadows of my past overpowering my life. I knew that behind this kiss was a pact signed between two families that I was to be protected at all cost. I knew that he kissed me, not out of love but out of sympathy, under the burden that he was being crushed. I rested my head on his chest; his heartbeat was fast and uneven. He knew that our future was uncertain, but he was sure that he could make things fall into place. I let go of a huge sigh and noticed that the moon was not there. I soon realized that some dark cloud will soon come in my life and I’ll disappear like the moon, not for a while, but forever, in the maze of Fate. And as his life was locked into mine now, we both will fade with time in this untold quagmire.