Children of Broken Homes.

She shivered. A shudder ran down her spine and she softly murmured, "I don't want to talk to you." It was a huge task. The very sound of his voice was terrifying the insides of her soul. But she had been taught to stand up for herself now. She knew better. You had to speak against wrong, you had to stand up for what was right and most importantly you, and you alone could save yourself. Even if it was from your own father.

She wondered now when it was that all the laughter died and when the man who used to adore her changed so much. When he became a ghost of the loving human he used to be. What could have led to such cruel remarks, such harsh words. Maybe this is why she can never comprehend the point of marriage or children.

For she is the child of a broken home. And she isn't the only one.

She has seen men beating their wives and sons raising their hand on the father, torn between their two 'protectors' not knowing what to do, who to turn to. What does a child do when the people who are in-charge mess up? Whom do they turn to?

Theirs is not a country which does anything against domestic violence. Hers is not a city in which she can refer to an anger-management specialist. Ours is just a world in which you watch as the walls around you crumble, each day, at an alarmingly slow rate which ironically enough still feels too fast. 

In a home where she has had to be the adult for so long, she forgot what it meant to be taken care of. To have a stable pool of unconditional love. She never saw love, all she saw was hate. Hate between her parents, between her relatives, among her peers at school. All she ever did seek was love and that was the one thing that was denied.

She never complained for it seemed harsh. Nor did she hold it against them for she knew everyone was just battling their own demons. She thought she could be the reason behind everyone's smile. So she began to strive and continued till there was nothing left of her but a hollow in the place of a happy, little kid. No achievement was ever enough to mask the sorrow that engulfed her house. 

She would pray to god every night for her parents to stop fighting. She learnt early on that there were prices to pay because they did. They would fight over anything and everything and she would be torn between the two people she loved most. As she grew up, they found a new reason to fight over - her. This was the worst by far for it made her feel as if she had been the cause of their misery all along. She constantly felt like a failure. She wasn't good enough to make her parents happy. Or proud.

No matter what she excelled in, they would find faults in her behaviour, her conduct, whatever it took to unnerve her. She began to live in constant self-doubt and wondered if it would be better to relieve everyone of the pain that she was inflicting upon them and just end it once and for all.

However the end didn't go as planned and this too was used against her. Repeatedly she turned to someone, something to hold on to in a fragile world which kept crumbling around her. She kept trying to run away, from her past, her present... And lived in dread of the future. She changed homes, cities but she couldn't change herself. 

For she was the child of a broken home. And she wasn't the only one. 

She thought time and age would change things. That the two adults who had brought her into the world would finally start to comprehend what it actually means to be responsible for another human being. But she realized how they were too broken for her to mend. And everyday that she lived in self-blame, she broke herself too. 

For that's the thing with the children of broken homes - they feel inadequate and responsible for all that has gone wrong in their houses. 

She still smiles. She still loves. But she knows now that nothing will ever change. They will continue to love her in their twisted way and she will forever crave for the one person who is truly hers, never letting anyone getting close enough because she's scared. She's been scared since she was three. If Mom and Dad couldn't love each other, how will anybody ever love a disappointing person like her?

What parents never realize is how much every word of theirs pierces through the hearts of their children, how much it controls them and how very much it hurts them. It's ironic really that the creator is more often than not the destroyer.

She's given up now. On finding answers to all that needs answering. She waits for peace, hoping it'll find her someday. Because love is too much to ask for. She can make do with a little bit of peace for now. As for love? Maybe in another lifetime. 

Because she is the child of a broken home.
And that shall haunt her forever.
But she's not the only one.

"I must be fine 'cause my heart's still beating."

Dear Rapist,

So now that my limbs are moving fine, I thought I'd write you a letter. What with all the love in the air today, I thought I'd let you know that everyone might have forgotten this incident in their rush of buying a perfect valentines present, but I never will. 

I think I have finally stopped hurting. There's only so much physical injuries can do to one. I hurt for a long time you know, well obviously you know, you're the one who inflicted all the pain - I'm sure you knew the suffering it'd cause. For days, everytime I walked or as much as moved, my body used to hate me for it. Breathing was too much of a task for every time I exhaled I could feel your breath on my skin, your weight against my body. I couldn't sleep at night, and even when a pill or two was popped in order to help me get there, I was haunted by what you did - you and your friends, were they ?

As you pulled me into that mini-van of yours, I could see it all flash in front of me - my future for as long as you would now own me. I'd once read somewhere that when rape is inevitable, you should lay back and enjoy it. But I didn't recall that until your friends were done with me; which is why you had to use those blades. I remember the searing pain from where you burnt my skin and made me regret for ever having been born a girl. I couldn't fight much for there were too many of you. Keeping me pinned down must've been a piece of cake right ? Did my screams satisfy your insatiable hunger for power ? As your friend made way for the other one, I tried to claw my way out of it. Is that what the kick was for or was that just to teach me my place in society ? I'm trying to get some answers you see.

It's kind of blurry now but I do remember the song that was playing in the background. I will never forget that tune, I think it'll stay with me till my grave. I noticed it first when one of you turned me over and tried to take me from behind, like an animal. That was my worst scream, wasn't it? Or were you too preoccupied to notice? That was when you stuffed my mouth with some cloth or well, you tried anyway. My screams didn't get any softer and you did finally have to turn me over. That must've stung right ? Me being in control even if for the most insignificant fraction of a second ?

I still remember candidly the sound my clothes made as you'd ripped them off. I remember how each of you felt inside of me with all of your manhood. I remember how it upset you for just a second that I was menstruating before you decided that didn't matter eitherway. It meant more pain for me you know so that's another score for you. But most of all I remember the smirk you had on your face all the while and something more.. was it pride ? 

You waited till the end for your turn, saving me.. savouring the moment.. enjoying every minute of the torture you put me through. Were you proud of the hell on earth you designed for me ? My silence in the end might have ruined that satisfaction right ? Because this is when that old saying did kick in. As I took you in my mouth, did you see the submission in my eyes, did you recognize it for what it was ? 

So many questions and I'm still not done. The most pressing one is, how did you even get a hard on over my corpse of a body ? I didn't move, I didn't so much as make a whimper as I swallowed every inch of you in me. Is that why you slapped me repeatedly? To get a reaction? You must have been disappointed. Score, me ?

I wish you'd been raised better. I wish your mother had taught you a thing or two about respecting women so I wouldn't have to live my life in horror and shame anymore. I wish you hadn't destroyed my diminishing faith in humanity altogether. I wish I could shake the fear that has engulfed my very being now. I wish I didn't understand my real place in this world as a girl, which amounts to absolutely nothing. I wish when you looked at me, you saw more than just a sex toy that you lust  for. I wish you knew I am a real person, with real feelings - there's more to me than just my body - a person who will never feel safe or whole again. 

Once you'd taken me and done me in whatever manner you pleased, I was yours to discard  faster than garbage. You dumped me in some field with my bare nothings and just as your friend was about to drive away, you rolled down the window and threw me a twenty. You sealed the deal, I was your whore.

The aches may have gradually disappeared but the scars remain. I'm wounded. That night lashes in bits and pieces in front of my eyes ever so often. Even as I'm sitting in a crowded room with a beer in my hand, nobody realizes as I phase out. As I watch a repeat of my nightmare with my eyes wide open. Nobody notices the difference in my laughter or the hint of a tear in my eye as I turn every corner. I don't cry on the outside anymore, for that would make you the winner in all of this but I do weep. Because in one night you might have potentially destroyed my life forever. But you know what you couldn't destroy ? My soul. 

And I know you'll remember my eyes like I remember yours. I pray to the God I don't believe in anymore that you treasure the precise moment in which you took the light from them eternally because I sure will. If we ever meet again, you might not recognize me for only my shadow walks in the hollow that is now me. But I will recognize you. Because as I said it, I remember your eyes - I've enshrined them in my memory and if I ever stumble upon them in this lifetime, I shall be the last one to look into those two horrible monsters that enable all your leching before I watch the life get knocked out of them. That, dear rapist I promise you.

Sincerely,
Your nameless victim.

"This year's love" - My Entry for the Get Published Contest

A lot of us have spent our lives trying to decipher the actual meaning of this four letter word and somehow always fallen short, which used to make me wonder if it even exists, if it's real or just a myth. That feeling within, which can send you reeling in a spin of blissful delusion - was it for me or did I sidestep it as I hurried through life ?

The story, This Year's Love, is the narrator's tale of meeting her soulmate by sheer accident and how one night changed both of their lives forever. The narrator flies across miles to visit her childhood friend and boyfriend at the time, Sameer and ends up engaged in conversation with one of his acquaintances instead. As alcohol and words flow freely between them, it's hard to decide when exactly they realize that their chemistry is more than just a coincidence, it is fate. The boy who claims to be her soulmate, Anirudh, is also dating his long time friend at the time, Arya. The story unfolds and as these two people decide to give this divine intervention a chance, love triangles are formed and age old bonds severed for what they both believe is a once in a lifetime love.

This story deals with not just the rainbows and butterflies of when they decide to take on the world together for it feels so right but also what follows once the narrator heads back across all those oceans to pursue her education. It's about how those few days become enough to last for the months to come that they spend apart and how distance can drive a wedge even in the most beautiful of love stories.

Excerpt:

'As she stepped onto his feet, he smiled and pulled her closer. His hand on her waist was sending tingles up her spine and as she looked up into his eyes, the crowd of people started to fade away around them. He whispered the song ever so softly in her ears and took a whiff of her hair as they continued waltzing to a melody so pure and apt that it would be cheating destiny to resist this. Inches away from her face and those big, brown eyes, he admitted to himself how this was the very first time he could see clearly. She parted her lips, trying to say something but nothing needed to be put into words; not that either of them could've described the perfection of the moment anyway. 

But as he listened to the ending notes of her favourite track draw to an end, fighting his insides to not swoop her into a kiss that very instant, she pulled away from him and ran - putting as much distance between them as was possible in that little room in which they'd been left alone.'

This is my entry for the HarperCollins-IndiBlogger Get Published Contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

If you like it enough and would like to read more or better yet, see this in print, please like it at:
http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/303/

"But if you loved me, why'd you leave me?"

The three of them met after a haphazard array of events. Nobody quite knew how they got there. Except her. Samaira always knew. She'd been running, from whom it was immaterial in the face of the present now, but it'd been a long and tiresome run, not to mention tedious and very cumbersome. Dodging the people behind her was a task but one she was quite familiar with; she ran these roads alone every night, night after night.

He was driving them to safety, or so she liked to believe. Kent, he was good at that. Popping up when she most needed him. Kind of made her believe in all those tales Dumbledore had told about help always coming when those in need, asked for it. In that one desperate moment when she'd close her eyes, his was the last face that'd flash right before she was to give up hope, he was the first choice and the last resort; her broken knight in shining armour.

And then there was Nayna. The reason they'd first ever met. Nayna had hated herself for that for a long while. She'd known Clark all her life and Samaira had just waltzed in and made him Kent, a totally different person who tore her world apart. But well they'd all moved on, atleast she had. She wasn't one to hold grudges and forgave easy. And who was she to complain? She now had her perfection - the one that had stared her in the face all along but she'd been much too much of a coward to admit it earlier and then circumstances had played their toll. Now no more, nothing was keeping them apart any longer. She finally had him - Her Aditya.

Nayna's phone rang and she answered it. Looking out the front seat window, Samaira didn't need any clues to who it was on the other end. Aditya. He used to be Samaira's closest friend at a point.. Before things went so horribly wrong, before she picked the wrong guy, before..
"Yeah baby. That's what no. Marry me", spoke Nayna into her cell phone, giggling. Surely it was some private joke she wasn't in on. She'd been the outsider for so long now, with everyone. Maybe she liked it that way, maybe this was what was meant to be. So she stared on ahead into the oblivion as Kent blasted the music, as if sensing how the ongoing conversation was unnerving her.

As she spoke into the phone, Nayna couldn't help but notice the increasing frequency of Samaira's coughing. Did Samaira really expect her to hold off the conversation just on account of the former's feelings? Boy, she had some nerve. After everything she'd been through, she didn't owe Samaira anything.

*

Frankly, the girls were getting to him. Over what were the pining? That loser? Really now. The prize was still at large, didn't they see? He accelerated the car and drove them to a dilapidated warehouse. It was raining so they'd need to seek shelter and warmth. Perfect. He had just the spirits required for the particular occasion.

She sat down on a rug as Nayna started to light a fire. She'd never been good with all this. As she watched Kent pour them drinks, she didn't wait. Instead she downed all of the first three shots one after the other. He hinted a grin in her direction and she tried to ignore Nayna's presence and condescending statements. She was trying to be friendly but the alcohol was a much needed catalyst required for any headway in that direction.

"So, this is quite a threesome huh?", Kent ventured.
"And not one you hadn't imagined either" came Samaira's blunt retort. She seemed to be on the edge, Nayna noticed. The why to this had no clear answer but it was time Nayna tried to calm matters down. They were all clearly stuck together for the night and she hated unpleasantaries.

"How have you been?", she saw Nayna's lips move. Those must've been the words for she was good at lip reading, not so much at holding conversation. She let Kent and Nayna strike up one as she continued staring at the raindrops gracing the earth, across the window. So much had changed and after a full circle, she was still here, still standing - that was reason enough to celebrate some would say. She wasn't one of them. Samaira had never been one of them. As she heard them flirt casually, she wondered what Aditya would make of it. She had half a mind to call him instantly but she let that jealous whim go. He'd made his choice now and she'd made hers. It was time to live with it.

She looked across the room at the other set of childhood friends that had fallen apart due to the whirlwind romance that had ensued one summer. Look at us now, she thought. Two girls who loved him with everything we had. Two girls who lost everything for that love. Two girls who'd do it all over again? Nah, Nayna had opted otherwise. But she didn't know about herself. She'd never known that if given the choice would she in retrospect, run in the opposite direction on stumbling upon Kent or do it with him as her partner in crime, all over again. Would she just as willingly get played or had she learnt her lesson to never ever go down that road again ?

"Well, when it's you then any girl can feel insecure" came Nayna's cool yet seductive voice which caught Samaira's attention and she saw Nayna tracing Kent's jawline by her fingertips. She tried to look away but as their lips touched after hours of casual flirting, Samaira was in a trance.. And not one she could break.. Voluntarily or involuntarily. She could see his eyes look across Nayna at her, as if this were just some big foolhardy joke that she should ignore; as if this was a test and to pass it, all she had to do was play cool. Samaira tried to stare back but her gaze fell down instead to her feet. She turned her back to them and the fire that had been keeping her warm as a tiny tear slowly rolled down her cheek. She didn't let the tiniest whimper escape her lips, nor the slightest shiver tingle her spine and it was Kent that broke that endearing silence with his footsteps. Before Samaira knew it, he held her by the waist, turned her to face him, an inch away from his face as he scooped up hers and said, "There's no reason for HER to ever be insecure."

Those were the last words heard by both the girls as Kent swept Samaira into a kiss, one that he initiated. It wasn't the kind you read about in books; the kiss was neither wild nor mad; neither forced nor strong. It was the softest touch of lips as they engulfed one another and slowly their very bodies entwined alongwith their tongues which plundered on to seek more, to go further than either had ever been. Every kiss between them was like a story being told - the other always knew what was to follow, not because of the monotony or predictability but merely because their impulses read each other and aligned in careful symmetry always. It was like coming together after spending a century apart, they always picked up right where they left off.

She could hear Kent's thoughts as they kissed, telling her tales about how he had told his Mother about Samaira. She almost pulled away in surprise but he held on and continued discovering parts of her mouth, she had forgotten existed. He told her about that conversation and many more in which Samaira had featured, not because it was imperative but because he hadn't forgotten her, he never could forget her.

As Nayna looked at them kiss, there was not a twinge of envy, she was genuinely happy for she believed they belonged together. It had been she who had brought them together to this room to talk some sense into Clark's foolish mind. She'd known he couldn't intentionally hurt Samaira forever, and that he would be the man she had always imagined this boy to grow into, even if not for her. Nayna felt at peace as she saw the pieces of this puzzle fall into place. Maybe the four of them could finally all be happy at the same time and break the jinx they were tied into.

Samaira tried to hold back the tear that had been threatening to spill over but one look at Nayna smiling across the room, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Samaira had never believed Nayna when the latter promised she'd reunite them some day; Samaira was too much of a cynic that way. But Nayna had kept her word and Samaira had the man of her dreams kissing her, that once in a lifetime kiss that she had waited for with the tiniest ray of sunshine in her heart for expectations and hope were lost causes when it came to Kent.

As they started to break apart, his hands never left her face as Kent drank in that dewdrop like tear resting on Samaira's cheek and said in a soft, prolonged, sensual voice, "Hi."
"Hi." in her summery bright, chirpy, joy infused and content filled voice was what Samaira replied. 

This was how they said hello after all that time. This was how they'd always say hello. And then as Nayna stepped out to call her boyfriend, they dove right back into another liplocking kiss, never noticing the gas that was left burning. There was a lot to catch up on.

The murder.

He sat back and looked at the mess he'd made. His reputation for creating havoc preceeded him. The pool of blood, the scarred face. There used to be a smile there somewhere but he took the liberty to erase that. Forever. Funny word that. Her incessant usage of it used to bug him no end though he never said it out loud. Now no more. He was free. 

If I leave here tomorrow,
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on now,
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see.

He did believe in the beauty of a perfect crime. He hadn't intended to pull the trigger, no. But it was inevitable. She was asking for it really. Her with her constant whining about it being too sunny and it raining too less and him being too absentee. Well, he was here now and so was she. He traced his initials on her palm. The stupid thing she always used to slip in his - make him feel tied down. Tied to the one that he fit with with ease. But he wasn't the missing clue to a puzzle. He was the puzzle himself. He wasn't one to need someone to fit with. 

The bourbon rested neatly on her sidestand, a few drinks still left on account of her horrible capacity. She used to be able to drink when they'd met. He wiped his gun clean with the seams of her dress. Her fragrance was soon starting to fade though as the pool of blood took over, drop by drop. That annoyed him. He used to like being able to tell them all different without needing so much as a second whiff. Damn this red fluid for masking everything the same. 

He gulped down the drinks and then began the tedious task of erasing everything that might link him to the crime scene. There were books scattered around, with blood splattered on them. Hitchhiker's and Lord of The Rings caught his eye. He slipped them into the black leather bag first. Few fairytales and romance novels went in next. Damn, such a girl. There was a wrist watch with it's strap half undone due to the slight struggle she'd put up. He pocketed that. Next to seep into darkness were the toys that she had around since she was a kid. They were smiling still, almost eerily now at the fate they'd brought upon her. Serves her right, refusing to grow up despite repeated warnings.

He tore up the pictures on her cardboard. All the faces were familiar, he'd heard one too many stories about them all. She liked clinging to people, holding on to them long after they were gone. She liked to believe the best in everyone. Well, so much for unconditional love and blind faith. She'd know better than to trust a stranger next time and welcome him into her life. He took out his Swiss knife and played around with her skin, marking it with him. Good thing she couldn't tremble now, that might've halted his strokes.

He opened her drawer next. The combination lock was simple for him really. She never had kept one too many secrets. He knew her like the lyrics of the songs he first heard when he was five. Those kind of things tend to stick. As he stumbled upon a bundle of unsent letters tied up and kept in the corner, he decided to read just a few. However a few pages down the reading, he felt his eyes get numb. The bitch. She hadn't been lying. He'd always thought she was for that made things easier but these letters said otherwise. Next he hunted for the diary she was known to dutifully scribble in. Holding his head in his hands, he read words that were once exchanged. He slammed the drawer shut. 

Deciding to grace the floor with his skin, he sat beside her this once and held her in his arms. So fragile still, he recalled how happy she'd been to see him. He looked at the flowers scattered on the floor that he'd bought earlier that evening and retraced her words, "Flowers, really? For me?"
He had just nodded. The grin that followed was quite unnecessary he felt. She went on, "How come?"
He'd answered reluctantly, "Today marks something."
Those eyes had lit up instantly. The fool was expecting something else and he knew that all along. He grazed those hair that he'd loosened from the pony they were tied into earlier. 
"You'll stay the night?" she had asked him.
"Maybe."

But if I stayed here with you girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm free as a bird now,
And this bird you cannot change.

Her eyes were still open. She had actually thought he was kidding when he'd pulled out that gun. She'd said again, "You cannot hurt me." That was what triggered it. How could she be so naive? There was no place for the innocent anymore, didn't she know that already? Hadn't he taught her anything? There was a split second of amazement when the bullet hit her chest, he hadn't been able to shoot her head though watching a splattered brain had been kind of a personal wish, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't catch her as she fell to the floor either. He towered over her, as she looked up to him and tried to smile. He could see the why forming on her lips which was when he silenced her by putting one more bullet, right through the heart this time. The eyes took just a second to freeze as she managed to get those words out in a bare whisper, the stubborn mad girl, "Im meleth le."

Bye, bye, baby, it's been a sweet love,
Though this feeling I can't change.
But please don't take it badly,
'Cause the Lord knows I'm to blame.

Those eyes would infest his brain for a while. He did love those. Once.
Those eyes were what remained in his memory as he decided to set it all to fire. He emptied a bottle of her favourite whiskey over her and those belongings that made her who she was, and then lit the match as he stepped out in the cold street. As he watched her go down, burn to ashes, once and for all, her with all her insanity, he felt liberated. Little did he know, she'd haunt his dreams still. With that same smile he'd wiped off and that pair of eyes he'd taken out the life from. Forever. Funny word, that.

A real short story - IndiBlogger & Harper Collins Initiative.

Love is something that has intrigued the masses since time immemorial. I happened to stumble upon this article where there is  hunt for a 'real' love story by IndiBlogger in collaboration with Harper Collins. I thought to myself about how love, heartache and heartbreak marks the theme of most my writing lately and thought maybe this is what I'd been looking for.

The idea of my story is simple really. A summer time romance with a stranger. How two people discover in one night that they are just 'two lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year' (Quote: Pink Floyd). It's entwined with not just one but two love triangles, what follows and how it all goes down. The story will likely cover details of a present day relationship and it's quirks. Of things and emotions that drive us today. It'll reek of bonds formed over music, bourbon and an unexplained chemistry. And my version of love, or what I think love is anyway.

I just hope to be able to do this story justice for it's very close to my heart. And hopefully this will mark the end of my lovesick posts and I can finally set the quill down on us. I always thought I had a story to tell and where better to do it than here.

The man.

He stood up, rage seething from his eyes. If looks could kill, there would've been a massacre to say the least. His shirt hung loosely and the tie had been lost somewhere, alongwith the gleaming white that the shirt had been, now stained with blood.

The loser was screaming insults but the man didn't need words to throw his punches - he did that with his bare hands. Punch. Punch. Kick. And off the loser ran.

There were people on both sides holding them back but this anger was not to be quenched without proper repercussions. The man hunted for the loser who'd gone under hiding on his friends' sensible yet delayed advice. I stood there, looking at this boy I know, transformed into a man and there was an awestruck admiration that slowly filled my heart. Sure I was scared for his safety but my insides rooted for him - and it was only with so much effort that I bit back the cheers going on in my head. For the nth time in my life I found myself wishing to be a boy just to have been able to have this man's back, just to ensure no harm came his way. Not a scratch, not a bruise.

But blood did spill over. And it was a physical ache to see it on him. The girl didn't hold him back and insisted that he finished it off the very same night. So we went on the scavenger's hunt to chew off the head of the boy who'd dared. They say you even find god, if you search enough then this was a mere two-bit fellow whose existence is anyway an imposition on the planet.

Face to face again, there was no stopping the man. The alcohol in their system only aggravated matters and a squabble which might have been resolved easily, ended in blows, torn shirts, nosebleeds and the ultimate fleeing of the self-proclaimed taekwando master who turned out to be nothing more than a fat, aimless kick hitting lump of lard. He should've known better than to mess with the man. He had it coming. He was dealing with The Man.

#Because I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn,
Did back the things it did to you in return.

AA: Day seven.

"This could have been you, you know. You both were so happy together. This should have been you."

Samaira looked over her shoulder at her friend who had tears in her eyes and lent her the napkin she was holding beneath the heavy plate brimming with food. The only concern up until now in her mind had been about the amount of oil that was entering her system with the consumption of this wedding buffet. Was she supposed to be upset about her friend getting married instead? Was that the emotion real people felt? She nibbled at the pasta as her friend continued, "you can't live your life alone you know. The day's going to come when you'll want to share it with someone too."

Samaira sighed. They'd been over this. She'd been over this countless times with countless people. 

"I don't want to get married Ayesha. That is not the prerequisite to my happiness. He didn't want it either. We were happy, yes, without that contract or confinement. And yeah, for a moment there we felt like we could spend our lives with each other but even so marriage would've never been an option. I don't like the institution. I don't believe in society's need to tag and label everything. I might want a wedding someday when I'm bored, I'll never want a marriage."

Again, she got the amazed look she was pretty used to by now when she expressed her views about marriage. "But don't you see that it's a part of life? When you finally find someone, someone whom you love with all your heart and who loves you back, why not commit? It's a declaration of this love, this happiness - to the world."

Samaira tried not to scoff, "we didn't need to declare it to the world. Our love was for us. Our love was... "

"What? Tell me? What was it?"

"I feel even talking about it to someone who needs explanation is tainting it's memory. Our love was ours Ayesha. Let's just leave it at that."

The whole ceremony went on into the wee hours of the morning. Right before the pheras were completed, she thought she felt her phone vibrate. She slipped it out, ignored the texts as she typed out a new one. 

"I just attended a proper wedding. I think I'm about to faint with all these emotions swirling around me."

"Heh. You need a drink. Come over?"

She said her hurried goodbyes, wished the couple a happy and prosperous future and slipped out of the heels into her worn out chappals. As she drove towards the house that the very wheels of her cars knew all possible trajectories to, she lit the cigarette she'd been craving for all night. She parked her car in the same spot, tried to brush her unruly hair and picked up the cd she'd been listening to as she made her way towards the elevator.

"Whoa, you look terrible", he greeted her.

"Hah, I was asked if I was still unattached by atleast seven people tonight, including two prospective mother-in-laws", she laughed.

As he poured the drinks, she made way onto the bean bag and passed him the cd, "track two."

"Ah no man, I'm not in the mood  for your music. I'll show you something new instead?"

"Just shut up and play it. Trust me."

He sighed, then added, "the things I do for you."

This time they laughed together and he came to sit  across her bean bag. Looking at his outline in that room, across a tiny glass table beneath the music that engulfed them, she felt an unexplained yet unwavering happiness. She had needed this drink. 

"So, what are we drinking to?" he asked.

"To the wedding we'll never need", said she as they clicked their glasses. 

MM.

Under the velvet blue sky, he startled. He had not expected her there and yet .. one look upon her loosely hung tee-shirt, casual flip-flops and that messy side pony and his face broke into a smile. She could feel the warmth of this smile even across the distance that separated them. 

They both stood semi-still.. She, playing with her hair; he, gazing deeply in her grey-blue eyes – neither wanting to break the eye-contact though both longing for touch. 

As the breeze started blowing with a deeper chill than before, she seemed to shiver slightly. It seemed this cold breeze was giving her goosebumps—though she doubted it had more to do with his presence. It was this shiver that brought him to his senses, splintering the trance he was in and he broke into a run towards her. 

And as he stopped, just two steps short of her, it was so as to take in her entire beauty, even more charming under the moonlight which seemed to seep upon them in a way that kept alive the sense of dark and yet, was enough to light up their faces. They were so close that she could have counted the freckles on his face but she only noticed his deep, intense eyes seemingly burning the darkness as they gazed so passionately into her very soul .. 

The chill was setting in and the breeze swayed the branches of the trees gently .. the clouds slid over the moon and the night seemed to momentarily engulf them both into darkness. 

In this one fluid moment he pulled her by the arm to him and held her close enough to never let go. She was cold, her skin freezing as if begging him to make her warm. The world around them ceased to exist as they both looked into each other .. craving for more closeness if possible .. 

She opened her mouth, trying to put into words as to how she felt, how he made her feel .. but his two fingers touched her lips .. silencing her .. the moment was just too perfect for words. 

She was shorter than him by an inch or two so she stepped on his feet as he held her by the waist, slowly yet certainly, drawing her closer and closer .. pulling himself into her .. leaving no room for even air to pass between them .. 

He slid his hand up her back into her silk soft hair .. and as she tried to pull away, he held her even harder with a sense of possessiveness that a kid has while holding a precious toy that he’s afraid to lose in the dark. She stopped resisting as he finally broke the silence with his husky-deep voice ..

“I Love You” 

The clouds seemed to leisurely drift away .. making way for two stars that shimmered ever so brightly upon them .. and even the chill in the breeze was lost and forgotten .. as their lips met. It was their first .. and the miniscule distance between their bodies seemed insignificant and non-existent .. their soul was one .. 

And as they sat down on a forlorn bench to gaze at the brilliant sky, the secret midnight walk seemed worth the effort .. and as she kept her head on his shoulder taking her small, cold hand into his, it was her favourite song that he whispered in her tender ear .. 

*

She wakes up.

That was then.. This is now. And no amount of dreams can make them real. This harsh reality is hers alone. Sure, she spends it wishing he comes and pulls her out if it - this misery, but it's her fight. She has to fight this one alone. She has to wake up in this jail that she has built for herself, secretly praying everyday for a loop-hole, an easier way. 

"Oh my god. I know this is not what it used to be. It used to be easy. Waking up to your name was one of the many constants in my life. Now my wrinkles are yellow, and my face is pale. The stength seems to have left my limbs and it's an effort to get myself out of bed everyday without that name."

"Oh my god. My warts are moonlight and they can't be scrubbed off or shook. They plague me a little more each day and happiness is a task when you're ill, maybe even dead from within."

"Oh my god. My fatigue is the sea. My sea. It has tired me and left me on clueless and homeles at the shore. I'm alone and the more I run toward it, the further back it recedes."

"Oh my god. I know I'm not the girl you fell in love with. But please don't abandon me. Don't abandon me."

*

The silence hasn't changed, that's still the same. But now it gnaws at her very insides. The silence used to reflect how they didn't need words. They probably still don't. There's nothing left to say anymore. 

Her favourite story is ending now. And it's not with the happily everafter that she had secretly always hoped for. A few chapters remain to be written though. The question is, will she have the strength to write them?

* 

"They say she's in the class A team, stuck in her daydream.

Been this way since eighteen, but lately her face seems; 

Slowly sinking, wasting, crumbling like pastries. 

They scream, the worst things in life come free to us."

My roots - Part I

Eversince I was a kid, I liked to explore, and experience. I didn't like the walls people built around me or the million rules they made. So I trotted along, but every once in a while I ran off as soon as I saw the chance. That's why when that certain uncle I'd only met once or twice offered to drive me to see the biggest mythological villain according to our epics, the three-year-old me was only too glad to jump on his scooter and drive off into the dark night.

I always followed my desires, not giving a hoot to what it would do to the people I drove away from or left behind. And so we reached the big ass playground which I had left just an hour back. It was too crowded and Mom hadn't been feeling too well. You suspected a stampede at the least, judging the crowd's agitation level and numbers. You've always had an eye for the things to come Papa, but I so wanted to see evil burn to the ground with my own eyes.

As we reached, the man offered to buy me candy floss but all I wanted was to get in, ahead of everyone else. He held my hand and tried to guide me through the massive crowd. But he didn't know, I lead my own path. I don't hold on to hands for support too often and his fingers were strange and unknown. I left them somewhere along my journey and found myself in the middle of people too tall for me to look at and too strong for me to push.

The man started to panic and fret. My face was nowhere to be found and he had lost not just a kid, but somebody else's kid. While he roamed around screaming my name, I made way between people's legs to reach the very front of a much coveted line. I maintained my balance as I was pushed around. I didn't notice the mob getting out of control or when exactly all hell broke lose. The last thing I remember watching was the blinding blaze from the fire that was ablaze at last; the fire that I'd yearned for and managed to see.

In between the havoc and chaos at the playground, you were losing your cool back home, unaware of where I'd disappeared. Mom tried to calm you but she was worried too. Her creases eased somewhat and yours just deepened as you saw a scooter driving towards our house. He got off the scooter, perspiring and trying hard to form the words, "I.. I just took her to the playground.. She.. She left my hand.. The crowd.. There was a stampede.."
You didn't wait for him to complete the sentence, collared him and dragged him closer slapping his face, hard - this man who was your friend.

"How dare you take her out of my sight?", you said, as you hit him again. People tried to pull him away and he tried in vain to apologize. Nobody could hold you back and you struck again. You'd never let your little girl out by herself for this world was a big, bad place. You were livid at this man who'd managed to ruin all your efforts to keep her safe and protected by this one careless stunt of his.
"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?", you bellowed into the silence of the night. Nobody has the answer. I'd left home, not to return.

*

But that's not how the night ended Papa. I'd listened to all those stories you read out to me and even though I didn't leave breadcrumbs to lead me back, I did count the turns and I did memorize the landmarks that would take me home always, a long time back, when you weren't looking. I came back, counting my steps and taking help from all the memories you and mom had helped me build around that neighbourhood. For when you weren't looking, I memorized the red light where you always switched off the ignition for it lasted too long, I learnt the roundabout where mom always forgot which turn was which, I remembered the lamppost under which I'd dropped my cap once, I knew the road on which mom taught me to ride my cycle and I certainly knew the lane which marked our house. Because you never taught me weakness. Losing sight, or calm, or faith was never an option. Fighting always was. So even though I left to discover the world, I came back Papa. All you had to do was wait.

And even though I've left home again, for a much longer duration this time and a much bigger discovery, I will come back. For that's where I belong. All you have to do is wait. Just wait for me.

The gunshot.

She had her twenty-fifth birthday present from him. In her hands.
"It's beautiful."
She whispered to herself for he wasn't around. He'd been in a hurry, he had some work which needed finishing. But he'd come, and kept his promise, kissed her on the forehead and said, "Happy Birthday Baby" before rushing off.
She traced her fingers along it's length. The cool, hard metal surface. She'd imagine it for over a decade now - but that imagination didn't come close to the actual feel of holding it in her hand.
*
"Hello. You've reached the voicemail. After the beep, you know what to do."
"Hey.. I came back but you weren't home. I thought we were doing dinner together? Eitherway, have a great day."
*
She had him tied up. The smirk had left his face. For once in her life, the fear resided in his eyes not hers. He did the begging and pleading. She didn't bother to respond, just laughed in her head. How must it feel, she wondered, for him to know that his life lay in her hands? One shot and he'd be gone. Wiped off the face of this earth.
They were in a cave full of mice and as he mumbled something she did not bother to hear, she glanced around at the bottle of scotch she'd brought with her. That had been a present too. But today she didn't need it. Today she didn't need anything else. Just that gun in her hand and the resolve in her head.
*
"Any last words?"
She didn't know why she even asked. For his words were an incoherent jumble she couldn't decipher. She could hear the unplayed music in her head as she fired the shot, right through the head. Her last thoughts to herself were, "Happy Birthday to me."
*
They discovered the bodies days later. He was in a bad shape, though he was still breathing. His misery was more due to the mice who had been chewing him alive than anything else. As for her, she lay in her own pool of blood, a smile upon her face, radiant in her death. The mice hadn't so much as edged near her body, all clad in white, with smears of red splashed on it now for nothing could scar her now. She was safe.
*
And as they buried her by the sea-side for she loved water and has always wanted that, he kept all his promises once more. He wore black, he brought a date and he sang.
The epitaph did finally read:
I just need you to be able to tell people I was here. I laughed, I smiled, I sang, I felt, I lived and I loved as much as I could, while I could. And that the person that I loved, was you.
(8th July 19xx - 21st July 20xy)
*

Wait.

She went running, for she loved to run. She started running at an early age and she would run fast and far, always. Her breath had started failing her now but her steps never did. She would stumble in her routine life but when she ran, there was not a more soothing sight. The feet fell into place always, the hands were unnecessary, the hair that she wasn't fond of would be tied back and only fresh air would touch her face. 


And so she ran, away and beyond or towards, she knew not. She ran as far as her feet would take her and then grudgingly walked back for even she grew tired and her body loved to not do her bidding. 


Splashes of water on her face, a long sip to quench her thirst and she made way for her bed. Fumbled a bit in the dark, her elegance lost now and climbed under covers to ignore what lay ahead; she couldn't be less bothered. All days fused into one as she found means to keep herself entertained in the land of the dead.


A hand reached out from behind her and she turned over, alarmed, more than anything else. But even in the dark, her skin knew his touch and his breath. Had she fallen asleep long enough to dream? She wanted to drown him with a million questions but he beat her to it; he drowned her with a kiss. He whispered so softly in her ear that she might not have heard him at all, but she did, "I've been waiting for you for so long.."


As his voice faded off, she lay there thinking and speaking to his ghost. 

"I'm waiting too baby, I'm waiting too."

What does it take to come alive?

She walked to the cliff, stronger this time. It would set her free. She would set herself free tonight. She sat at the edge listening to all her favourite songs. Music was the answer, always. But what when music led you to the same person over and over again?

"Then maybe you're supposed to walk to them" said a little voice in her head. She drowned that voice with a hard shot of scotch. Her instincts weren't hers. They'd not been hers for long now. Ever since she met him really..

And she swung another long sip just as her mind started to wander towards him. There wasn't possibly enough whiskey in the world to make her forget him. A few drinks down though, the music called to her soul and she found herself swaying at the edge. She took a step back, she was waiting for the perfect time.

The sunset was an unseeming purple. Or maybe it was just her imagination playing with her mind again. She'd been forging reality for so long now, she'd grown accustomed to hallucinations. And tonight she would get high, her first and last time, know once and for all what it felt like. She looked on and saw the sun going down, the sun had gone down on her such a long time ago.

Very soon now, she thought to herself.

The alcohol ran out on her, too soon, before nightfall had hit her properly but she'd been prepared for this. She traced her way back to the car, found another bottle and smashed this one to bits. The splintering sound of glass on hard rock was the last thing she heard before she hit "play" for what she knew would be the last song.

As luck would have it, she found Martin singing to her, telling her what a shame it was for them to part. Sigh, so be it. The sky had turned a blissful black now, and there was a star shining diagonally across her in the distance, just one, and she closed her eyes. The beat found her feet and she danced her way to the very tip again. She didn't open her eyes for the star seemed to be haunting her with his memory as if he'd followed her up to her mountaintop.

He saw her dancing in the distance, under the moonlit sky. If only she knew how beautiful she looked just slowly moving there. He would have gladly stood there all night, and for many more nights to come but he knew any second now she could make one wrong step and she'd cross over, once and for all. He'd not looked back since that fateful night but he knew by her words tonight that she was going away, forever and a universe in which there was no possibility of reaching out and meeting her was not one he was willing to accept he realized. So he moved forward. Counting the steps. The fourteenth step, and he could tap her shoulder. And so he did.

She turned around, dazed. She blinked her eyes. It was her vision playing tricks on her again. But she hadn't seen his face this clear for so long now that she stared unabashed. She stared to take it all in. That impeccable jaw line, that lazily maintained goatee, the non-existent cheeks she loved to pull at, those perfect lips, and those heavenly eyes. The eyes is where she stopped. There was something wrong. No twinkle. In her head, his eyes always had that crazy spark.. where was it? She raised her hand and traced it along his face before she accepted that he was here, inches away from her. And then she looked away, embarrassed at how blatantly she'd been staring.

He removed the earplugs from her ears and as she resisted they fell out and the music stopped. Her cigarette case fell off too. He picked it up and slid open the red box over which they'd become acquaintances first. Even he was mildly surprised.

"Really now? Your first without me?" he said inspecting if it had even been rolled properly.
"It's my last too." she whispered, still amazed at the ease at which he had strolled up into her realm once more.

He ignored her, rolled it a bit better and sat down on the rocks.
"What, are you planning to stand all night now?"
She slipped by his side, noticing the uneven surface she'd placed herself on for the first time that night. She was suddenly very aware of her surroundings, of herself. Her strewn hair which she hadn't brushed in days, the eyes which were a dense brown now minus the specs that she had broken in a fit of unexpected rage, the lose tshirt that hung so limp over her shoulders and the ragged shorts which she hadn't bothered to change out of for days.
He took a drag, and as if reading her mind said, "you still smell the same."

He passed it to her an she inhaled it a little too much at once and ended up coughing it all out. He stroked her back gently, and taught her how it was done and then they shared it in silence. She reached out for the bottle, but he held her hand, "I pour the drinks baby."

He poured them shots and she didn't know what to click them to. The end?
"What are we drinking to but?"
"For me walking to someone to pull them back for the first time ever?"
His reply was simple, the click quick and he drained his glass empty before she even had a sip.

"Why?"
"What why?"
"Why should we do this anymore? I'm tired. And you're weary. We've gone so long without talking..." she took a long sip before she could complete her sentence "..but I still can't imagine a world without you in it. It's too hard baby."
"So you're taking the easy way out?"

She didn't miss the tone of his voice, the slight edge, the clear disdain. He'd never get it. And yet as she even formed the thought in her head, his hand found hers and her fingers held on tightly, for dear life. They sat like together for hours, drinking, making no conversation, none was needed, the eyes said it all; both too stubborn and afraid to blink for the fear that it might end.

Once the alcohol was over, and they only had each other, she finally found her voice again.
"Why, why tonight after all those texts and calls? Why did you come?"
"Because I knew it was now or never."
"How?"

He slipped out his phone and clicked a few buttons and she re-read her text to him early that morning.
I tried. I really did. But it doesn't make sense anymore. None of it without you. I'd rather jump off than fall apart bit by bit. And even though it's been years, there was only just one you so I can't watch your face fade from my memory any more than it already has. Know that I love you, always have, always will. Forever.

It meant nothing to her, they were just words and she had written so many to him over the time and distance. What stood out to her was the fact that her name was still saved as superwoman. She looked at him, the questions stuck in her throat. Had he really flown to her? She couldn't stop the tears anymore. She hadn't cried in so long, he'd made her promise that she never would so she had soaked them all in and not let them fall and still they came rushing now, as if making up for all the times she bled but did not cry.

She was crying now. He didn't know what to do. He held her and tried to cradle her but she just sobbed and sobbed relentlessly. He hugged her and pulled her close trying to wipe off those tears which always left him speechless but she was such a stubborn baby. My baby. He recalled all the times he'd said it and it seemed just like yesterday and he didn't know why they'd ever gone a day without him saying it. 

"Baby.. stop? Please?"
And that was when she looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. She took a broken breath in and tried to not exhale for she knew not how to hold it back anymore. Neither did he. So their lips found each other and he was ever so gentle as if scared to hurt her. She broke away first and wiped her tears dry.

"You want me to live?"
"When we end it, we do it together. That's all. Living or dying is your call to make."
"I feel I've been dead all this while anyway.. What would it take to come alive?"
"You."

And just like that, there was music in the world again. She was kissing him, and not gently at all for she had a blinding rage in her. He'd not seen her in so long and this is how he remembered her always. Fierce and unrelenting. And she was just that when his touch met hers. He realized now what she'd meant when she'd said 'they fit together' and he'd jeered it off. He hadn't fit like this with anyone, ever since. Her shuffle was his and as it panned out, he felt himself smile after what seemed like years.


As she heard the track change, her eyes met his and she saw what she'd missed earlier, that twinkle, that spark. "If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?", she'd whispered it out to him as she'd pulled him to lie beside her. "I did already didn't I baby?"

She looked up at the sky to show him the star she'd seen his face in but there were two now. He'd brought her to life.

Epilogue:
"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you come?"
"You won't let this go, will you?"
"No."
"I had to tell you this in person."
"What?"
"I love YOU too.. soo fucking much."


With that another twenty eighth came to an end, they crossed another bridge and they lay back to see another dawn through each other's eyes. She lived to feel the sun warm her again. Her sun.

I looked your way a long time today, but you were gazing elsewhere.

"You've ruined everything now, forever."

He says the words with absolute brutality. And yet there's not anger in his words, but hurt. She's crying and can't stop. How could she do it? How could she let it happen? How was she blind all along? He pats her head and starts to walk out the door. She doesn't ask him to stop, she hasn't done that for over a decade now.

"I despise myself more than you, I hope you know that."

He came back. He always did. Moreover, there was nothing left to do. Nowhere left to go. She was all he really had, his one prized possession, the one he never earned but deserved nonetheless. Him and her. Two broken souls came together to produced the most scarred one there ever was. And they watched it happen, didn't see the signs or read the skies crying out to them.

"How could this happen?"

They ask each other this repeatedly. Neither can ever answer. They look at her and it's all changed. She's grown so much in one night. How did they miss it all? How did they watch her childhood just pass them by? More importantly, did they actually just let her miss all of it herself?

"I failed you."

Neither says this, they're proud people, them. They shoulder the blame together but it's done in utter silence for years.

"I didn't mean for it."
"But it happened. You took my daughter from me."
"I .."
"Save it. I'll never forgive you."
"I'll never forgive myself."

They grew to ignore the unpleasant bits. They erased the horrific ones in ways of their own. Fought their demons in ways they knew best. But it was always there, that something, seeping beneath the surface, lurking in the shadows. The unspeakable truth.

Years later, she thanked him.
Thank you for giving me a wonderful daughter, she said.

Him - "I love you, despite everything."
Her - "I love you, because of everything."

The long conversation.

I meet him and his roommate in delhi and we sit for hours and talk. We kid around and pretend like nothing ever happened. That we're two friends catching up on old memories. He's supposed to help me catch my bus to Jaipur but I miss it. Intentionally? Through the blur, I think yes, because my subconscious makes me want to stay with him, a little while longer, always. We come back to the room where just hours earlier he was telling me how studious he's become. 


I sit with the two of you, what was his name again? What was his face? Were you the only thing I noticed? I casually pick up a notebook and see your messy cursives and read some math scribbled in it.

Her - Any good at math yet?
Him - Always.

I scoff. 'Did I miss something?' You laugh and pour me a drink. Your friend fades away. I tell you to not make it strong.

Him - Now that's a first.
Her - I kind of want to stay in my senses.
Him - Relax, I wouldn't be touching you.

He pours me the usual. Our glasses click. What are we drinking to, I wonder even then. Drinking together is a bad idea, I know somewhere in my head.

Her - So I should call Anirudh. Tell him I stayed back.
Him - Let him call.
Her - Why? I'm the one who always calls.
Him - Well then, that's kind of the problem still, isn't it?

I choke down my retort. I don't want us to rip each other's head off, just yet. We've had such a normal, fun day till now. I gulp down the shot and pour myself another drink. 'He doesn't know shit', I think to myself.

Him - We're all the same Shiromi.
Her - No, you're not.
Him - Trust me?
Her - I did, remember?

The tones are changing and I don't like where this is going. Maybe I should have left. What is the point to this. The outcome will be.. Well. I decide to browse through his notebook and see the doodles instead.

Her - What's this?
Him - Forgotten your name have you?
Her - But.. Since when do you trace my name?
Him - You know everything right? Work this one out on your own too.

There's no rage in the words. Just hurt. I've hurt him again. I hit myself in my head for not knowing better.

Her - I'm sorry.
Him - Me too.
Her - You? What are you sorry for?
Him - Everything? For all those tears. When all you did was cry, all I did was let you. For all those fights. For treating you like property. But most of all for letting you go. For not believing in the love that you never gave up on.


I need more alcohol. I don't want these words. Not anymore. I keep the notebook away.

Her - It had to end. It would have been no other way.
Him - No, I used to think that too. But it didn't. If I wasn't such a jerk, it wouldn't have.
Her - But you were.
Him - Yes I was.
Her - Stop it man. I love him now.
Him - I know. That's the sucky bit.
Her - Excuse me?

I get up. Walk-outs come naturally to me. But he knows me well. He holds my hand, trying to calm me down and make me sit. We fight and somehow I have a lot more power than I usually would. I want to get out of this room, out of his face. He blocks the door.

Her - Let me go.
Him - Again?
Her - Yeah.
Him - No. You suck at walking away you know.

I put up a fight. I think I scratch his face for there's blood when I look at it. 'Oh shit', I mutter and grab inside my bag for cotton. I seat him down and clean the cut with alcohol gently. 'It stings a little', he says. I reply, "I know it's the damn alcohol.' He shakes his head in disagreement, 'No, this stings a little. Your touch which won't last a second longer than it needs to.'


The only thing I notice as he says that are the eyes. There's no glint in them, no light even. What happened? I stop for them, nothing else.

Her - You had beautiful eyes.
Him - You still do.
Her - You're noticing them now?
Him - Yeah..

We sit on the same bed. I'm tired. Of fighting it. Of fighting him. I drown another drink and he looks at me like he can't comprehend something. Like I'm a puzzle he can't solve.

Him - Are you happy?
Her - Yeah. I really am.
Him - Does he know what actually makes you happy? Does he even know you'll never really be happy?
Her - Huh? He knows everything.
Him - You believe in fairytales. You hate it but you do. You want a happily ever after. You like it when someone holds you back, you walk away just to be stopped. You like it when someone whispers to you, so only you can hear it. You like presents, it makes you feel like someone remembered and cared enough to go through the entire ordeal of buying you something you'd mentioned you like. You like surprises because you like being blown away. You expect only the best from the people you love, which kind of raises the bar enormously and the person inevitably always falls short. You like being quoted to, sung for and put to bed. You whine about chic flicks but somewhere you want one of them for yourself. You're not a pessimist, you're actually the secret romanticist. At the end of the day, you're just a scared, little girl.
Her - What bullshit.
Him - You're saying you don't want to be someone's princess forever?
Her - I..
Him - Don't.
Her - Don't, what?
Him - Don't lie to yourself.

I fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. As I close my eyes, my head is resting on his arm. I open them, then close them shut again.

Him - What are you thinking about?
Her - Him...
Him - Oh. You really love him?
Her - You disregard everything anyway so why should I answer that?
Him - He's lucky then.
Her - I sense the sarcasm.
Him - There is none. I've never known a girl who loves like you. Honestly. You're.. Mad. 
Her - Heh, five years you know me now and that's the word you use?

I've smiled finally. There's relief in those empty eyes. He takes my hand and I don't resist. Not until he starts to trace somethings on the palm and takes it up to my shoulder and then the collar-bone.

Her - Don't.
Him - Why? He won't like it?
Her - I don't like it.
Him - And so you lie to me now?
Her - Well, you always thought I did.
Him - Stop it.
Her - What? 
Him - Stop fooling yourself. You know how this ends.
Her - Enlighten me please?
Him - It ends with you in tears. Haven't you learnt by now? This isn't a fairytale. You're not a princess. You're emotionally damaged and he's not going to be the one to save you.

I jerk myself up. I've had enough. I start screaming now.

Her - Why the fuck do you always do this huh? Everytime I'm happy. Why do you come and haunt me? I'm his princess. I don't want a happily ever after. Just a happy right now! I don't live in the future. You'd know that if you knew shit about me. I live in the past.
Him - I'm your past.
Her - Don't flatter yourself. A lot of things may change but the fact that he loves me will not change. You don't even know HIM!
Him - I know enough. You were my world too right. Where did that leave you?
Her - No where.
Him - Exactly. If that could end, why will this not?
Her - Because..
Him - Because?

I'm crying now. As he inches closer, I push him away. I switch off the phone that refuses to ring. 

Him - It's true. We weren't supposed to end..
Her (interjecting) - We were. What did you think we'd end up married or what?
Him - Well, I wanted to.
Her - You're.. Impossible.
Him - But you loved me first.
Her - It matters not who I loved first. I care about who I loved last.

He's trying to soothe me now because I don't stop crying. I'm weeping like never before. Sadly, it's his shirt I'm ruining in the process.

Him - Why're you crying?
Her - Why're you doing this? I believe in him. Why are you shaking the belief it took so long to build? Do you even know what you did to me? 
Him - Shh. I didn't do anything. I'm not doing anything. It's all in your head. Come here. You know you're the only one I've ever loved.

He pulls me close, takes my glass and keeps my spectacles away. He puts me on his friend's bed and pulls the covers. Then turns off the light. I don't let him get into bed with me even for a reassuring hug. He reluctantly sits by the edge of my headstand.

Him - I'm just in your head baby..
Her - I'm not your baby. I'm not your girl.
Him - That's the thing. You're nobody's girl.

He kisses my forehead and shuts the door, his words still vibrating in my ears, telling me I'm nobody's girl. 

*

I wake up and the bright white light blinds me. These pale blue walls seem familiar. I reach for my bottle of water and realize I'm in my own bed. Then why do all his words stand so still in my mind? Why's the pillowcase wet and stained with my tears? Why did he come back with all the insecurities and fears?