#storminateacup

I

She woke up with a knot in her stomach. You know that feeling of anxiety? When you cant swim any further but there’s still a way to go? Yeah, that! He had left the night before in a flash. There was none of the customary “ I’ll see you around” or “ you take care”. It was just a hurried “ I’ve got to go” kind of thing as he got off the bed, wore his clothes and left. They were there a few minutes ago, their fingers intertwined, their mouths joined in love, their minds each other’s. She lay there smelling the sheets, her mind refusing to understand what just happened, but determined to find out.

They had met just a fortnight ago. And before they knew it, they were in each other’s arms, drinking tinkling glasses of bubbly, telling each other stories, numbing the other’s pain. He came with many disclaimers. He was not the one to fall in love. He didn’t want anything much- just a friend, just a hand to hold, just a laugh to share. He was her city, he was her childhood, he was what she knew. Yet as she saw him 20 years later, he was perhaps not the man she knew. He had changed and she didn’t seem to mind it. She was a changed woman herself. Life had put her through the ringer as she liked to call it and she had emerged on the other side, stronger, calmer and hardier. She didn’t like indexes of happiness to measure her life. Those were too transient she said. Happiness is a state of mind, relative. Often a glass of wine made her as happy as a fantastic piece of writing she had read. That ice cream that she had stored forever could make her as happy as dark clouds after a scorching summer. These were islands, in the middle of a sea. She would enjoy it when she was there. But she liked the roughness of the sea better. The unease, the sound, the waves, the spots of calm. It taught her to adapt. To bend herself in ways she didn’t know but ways she didn’t mind. And it is with that, that she met him. Zero expectations with only the desire to share a moment.

II
He was a well known restaurateur- suave, funny, charming, cocky and arrogant. He knew what he had and he played it to the hilt. Women came and women went, women swooned and declared undying love. He sat there with a smug grin on his face, knowing where to play the cards and how. He was a master in this- bare, upfront, without a thing to hide. What attracted most people was his unfazed attitude to anything. He had a lot to hide, a lot to be wary of. But it was all there for people to see. It almost seemed like he was looking for an excuse for someone to call him out. To tell him that his mind was not as impervious as he had thought it to be. That he too could be shaken out of his reverie.

He met her online. First time for who she was. The second time for who she wanted to be. She was upfront with him- she was in disguise and it was his game to find out who she was. She played his mind, played his thoughts and maybe a little part of the brain where his emotions came to rest. He played along, completely mesmerized, almost taken in by this image of someone he knew but didn’t want to. She played him to her tunes, he played along. She drove him through rough terrains, left him floating in the sea, walked with him amidst flowers and rolling meadows. He seemed content, as long he she was beside him. He didn’t want to be left alone, he said. He was happy but scared she would go. She was the mirage he never had. She was the shiny new toy that he was scared to lose. He spent 72 hours riding this wave, completely enthralled that there was a woman who could tame his mind like nobody ever did before.

III

It was a thrill at first to be able to control a mind she couldn’t in reality. She couldn’t understand this side of her. She was not being true to herself, not to him. She was playing a part and while he knew that, it just seemed unfair. There was an excitement of exploring her wild crazy side- of being the teasing enchantress she had never been. Running through forests, hiding behind curtains, just to let the light seep in but not enough for him to see. She knew he loved it because she was being the temptress. She was speaking in a voice he didn’t know. She was breaking apart all the spaces he knew. She was breaking the walls he lived inside of.

But it didnt turn out the way she wanted it to. She was riding this wave with him. She wasnt controlling him anymore. Their chemistry was controlling them. The more she tried to walk away, almost begging him to guess who she was in real life, he fell more and more in love with the person she wasnt. Every time she pushed him away, he appeared a bit closer. Every time she thought she thought she would pull away, he pulled her back into his arms, refusing to let her go, refusing to let her disclose who she really was. It was like a drug she couldn’t control. While she laughed and mocked him for being so crazy, she only hoped this facade would come to an end. That she could hold him in real life and look into his eyes and tell him who she was. That he would be at her door, mesmerized not with who she pretended to be, but who she was, or maybe a bit of both.

IV

She told him one night. Literally hearing him cry over texts, distraught by the fact that he was taken over by someone he knew and yet didn’t, she told him. She could hear the pin drop as she waited to hear what he would say. He didnt. Not a word, not an explanation. He just walked away.

In Response

A dirge is only for the weak hearted
Those who have given up on the song of life
It’s not a song for the one whose soul still sings of light
Whose words still make grey skies seem blue
It’s not our time to give up my friend
But to continue in this battle of hapless souls
Because somewhere out there
There is a light that says
The sun still shines for you

This day, those years!

Remember those days?

It’s your birthday and its Valentine’s day. I still remember the first time you told me this. I was convinced it was just because you wanted an extra kiss. Not that I minded. I actually thought it was very cute. And then when we started going out I could never decide what to celebrate. I wanted to be cool and say your birthday was more important but my heart skipped a little bit every year when I saw you walk in with flowers. You never bought me flowers any other day of the year but every year, today, I knew that routine would be broken. We did corny romantic things and today when I look back at it I laugh but there is this warmth that fills my heart remembering the moments we shared. It was beautiful and it was to last forever. And today I sit in an  auto, passing by young couples holding hands. I don’t miss you. I miss us. I wish there was anger but all that there is, is affection and a deep sense of gratitude for allowing me to experience  overwhelming love at it’s highest order, perhaps and letting the magic change my life.

Happy Valentine’s day. You’ll always be very special and oh, I almost forgot, happy birthday too!

The search ends here!

I wont search for you anymore
Wont look across heads to see that eye meeting mine
Wont walk into parties knowing that you might be there somewhere

I wont cross those bridges, hoping you’ll be on the other side
And that there will never be a bridge again that I might have to cross alone
I wont smile behind my tears again
Knowing that you will never give me a chance to cry again

Those days of searching are over my love
What lies in front of us today
Is a crossroad
Its us who have to take the call

We will choose our fate
And decide
If crossing or meeting is what we want to do!

The year that was…2016 in a nutshell

And like that another year comes to an end. As we roll on from 2016, and to 2017, it’s always nice to look back at the year gone by and count one’s blessings, be thankful for the good and learn from what didn’t go down that well this year. So here’s my little list of the good things that happened this year. There was the bad and thankfully there was nothing exceptionally ugly this year- but there’s no point looking back at it. It was bad but its over and thats what it should be, over!

I’m thankful for:

1. Strength: Of mind, of heart, of soul. The last two years have not really been a joyride but one of the things that kept me going was a huge inner reserve of strength that I didn’t think I ever had. But as they say  strength manifests itself in moments when you least expect it and this inner reserve has led me through the darkest and loneliest of times, just holding my hand and gently guiding me along.
2. Hope: Hope is what kept me afloat this year. Hope that the next day will be better than this one. Hope that there will be more smiles than tears. Hope that everything will be ok. It is true that when one starts thinking in a different vein with a different filter, things on the outside seem different and thats what happened. As soon as you look at something with a tinge of hope, what you see is not the black hole in the middle but the little stars twinkling at the edges, looking for a spot through which to get in.
   I spent four nights this year in the middle of a forest and at night I used to sit outside my tent and look up at the sky. Shooting stars and a dark sky with twinkling lights is perhaps one of the most beautiful things this world of ours has to offer. Vast stretches of pitch black darkness and when you least expect it, a twinkling little light breaking that darkness and almost just peering out to say hello. That is life. There are stretches when you cant see the road ahead but just then the universe will show you something that makes you smile.
3. A stable job and a new house: I cant claim to enjoy my job anymore but its stable, I have a fun bunch of people to hang out with and I am good at what I do, even if I say so myself. So I guess the trick is to plough on and be thankful that I get a remuneration that helps me pay my bills and stay afloat. But the more exciting thing is that I have a brand new house. After years of procrastinating, this year saw me move into “my own” apartment, which I can claim to be wholly mine, with no baggage and only memories that I will create for myself and people I hold dear and near. I’ve already had lovely house guests and friends who’ve added cheer and warmth and made this place special and I can only hope that this will continue to get better and brighter as the new year rolls in.
4. Good health: We are all getting old and while I cant claim to be where I am in terms of physical health, shape and fitness, I am thankful for no creaking bones or any major debilitating illness. Of course there have been spates of illness, when all I thought while curled up in my bed, that was my last hour on this planet. But then even that blew over and I woke up to realise I still had all my limbs and organs functioning. The brain is slowly giving way, thanks to old age, but I guess thats for the better- one forgets shit quite easily and continues to smile like nothing ever happened.
5. Family:  The family has been well and healthy. And that’s saying a lot. Of course there have been tiffs, tears and arguments. But which one of us dont come from dysfunctional families? If you do, you are dysfunctional yourself and time for you to get help. So yeah, beyond all of that everybody was well and on an average happy and calm perhaps if i really stretch the envelope and want to be nice.
6. Friends: I always put this last because I can never be thankful enough for the bunch that I have and call my own. My friends have been my backbone, my spirit, my strength…everything I could ask for and much more. And for that I am blessed. There have been times when I’ve laughed till I cried and times when I cried because they gave me so much of grief. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, ever. And in 2017 I promise to be a better friend to them and be there for them the way they have been for me!

So that was 2016 in a nutshell, very small shell of an even smaller nut but just a quick glimpse into a year that was. It always helps me put this down because it teaches me to count my blessings when it feels like there is none around. So come on 2017, match up and go beyond 2016 and I promise to write you an effusive soppy note come this time next year.

Happy holidays people and lots of good vibes to you and yours from this side of the screen 🙂

Just a Rant

There is this weird heaviness I feel. Like something’s not right. Like the cover of darkness is slowly sucking me in, one breadth at a time. There are good days and bad days and I’ve lately been riding this wave where I’ve felt happy, been content with what the universe was providing, accepting things for what they were and moving on. It wasn’t a sense of elation exactly but it was a sense of peace with what was going on and what was to come. You know that sense when you know that even though times are difficult, things will fall into place. And then I don’t know what did it, but somewhere I lost that peace again. I don’t know if it was personal relationships ( or semblances of relationships) that got my mind in or generally what was happening with the world. This morning as I scrolled through news feeds, all I saw was these angry rants about Trump, angry rants of Trump supporters, the Delhi air forcing people to leave the city, the endless queues outside banks and ATMs and people scrounging around for a basic semblance of life. And it just made me want to crawl under a cave and hide till the world becomes normal again. I hate this feeling- this utter despondency at the state of the world and not being able to do jackshit about it. Aarrggghhhh lets hope this passes soon and there is some method to this madness which will emerge soon and reinstate our faith in the world.

The customary birthday post

The birthday came and went. Like it does every year. And I think for the first time this year I didn’t feel that anticipation, that excitement, that giddiness of being the birthday girl. Yeah, it’s called age. I walked right into that one, I know 🙂 Anyway, the birthday was well spent, with the closest gang of friends walking in at midnight with cake, followed by a team lunch the next day and a fantastic dinner with the midnight gang and two more of my closest at a very upmarket place. I should remember to mention here that I wore a pretty new dress back to front, to dinner, completely oblivious of the same till I suddenly saw a tag sticking out near my neck while sipping a drink. I thought I would let it go but then again its never fun till one can make an absolute fool of oneself. So dinner was spent just rolling over with laughter in bursts around the table, talking about my dress. Of course I could have gone and changed it around. But then it wouldn’t be so much fun, would it?

Anyway, as I turned a year older, something my friends thought they should remind me every half an hour, I sat back at night and thought of the year thats gone by. And I have to say I have surprised myself in more ways than one. Of course there have been cringe-worthy moments and as I thought of those times, I almost saw myself walk out of my body and slap myself for being so stupid. But, I have to say the good times outweighed the bad. I gained strength, emotionally and emerged out of depths I didn’t think I would. Often we dont realise how strong we are and these midnight contemplative exercises are really good shots at holding the mirror up to ourselves and while it does expose the raw, it also often shows us little halos around our head that we ignore. And it makes one feel good. Makes you realise that where you are today, with due respect to people around you, is also because you worked very hard and you should be proud and happy to have come such a long way. Makes you understand that there will be bumps on the road but you only know bumps, because you also know what a smooth road is like. And if it wasn’t for the bumps, a smooth road would be so boring and you would fall asleep and not even enjoy what the world has to offer. So the bumps keep us awake, keep us alert, keep us aware and keep us thankful that we are still moving on. Makes you realise the past is the past for a reason  and while one can learn from the past and also perhaps think of it with a smile, its something that needs to be left behind. So all in all, while its been a difficult year, its a year I am grateful for because this year taught me that its OK to fall and its even better to get up again, dust my knees, put on a band-aid and start walking again.

So as I bid adieu to my youth and beauty, I smiled and went to bed, knowing that next year this time I still might not have what I really want from my core but I will still be a step closer than I am now. And that is worth walking on for!

 

You Died

You died
The day the rain washed the window panes
And instead of being a child again
I sat and watched it alone

You died
The day I turned the lock
Because there was nobody else
Who would run back to say “I didnt leave”

You died
The day I pushed my plate away
Looking at the flowers, the crockery, the candlelight gleaming in the dark
And I couldn’t remember the words you said at dinner last

You died my love
In my heart, in my soul
But you lived on somewhere else
And in that life
I wish you create moments
That dont need you to die again

Moving

“Why do you take forever to choose curtains?” she heard him muttering under his breath, as she carefully tiptoed around the carelessly thrown curtains all over the floor. Giggling with excitement, yet quite determined about what she wanted, she ignored him with a smile, pouring over everything she liked, in absolute detail, unable to make up her mind. It was only an hour later that they both emerged from the shop, she triumphant, he looking absolutely bedraggled and bored. It was their first home together and she knew how she wanted it to look. Constrained by budgets, yet unbound by love, she would make sure they woke up in a sun-dappled bedroom every morning, the little glitzy polkis shimmering in the sunlight, against the white mulmul curtains that hung carelessly over her window.

The cartons seemed never-ending. They were stacked in all sizes. Some were labelled, some just had their names scrawled with a fading black marker. He was huffing and panting, lugging them across the rooms, trying to figure out at the earliest, what went where. Else it would be double the work he knew. She wasn’t one to let things lie around lightly and wait till the next weekend to unpack. The boxes seem to have multiplied in number she thought, looking down at them. Ten years. She was putting ten years into neat little boxes, labelling them room by room, naming them to be only her own. What would she do with his stuff though? Keep them in a separate box or pile them in with hers? Putting them together would be easier. But maybe it was best otherwise. They were his and she had hers. And now there wasnt a we.

The screen- A short story

I
Her fingers ran over the text message on her phone.” Hey, you are presumably a nice girl and I am sure you will find someone who is not a douche like me. I am seeing someone else and it wouldn’t be fair to her or to you that we communicate. Take care and have fun”.

She had waited two months for a text to appear. Every morning as she woke, the first thing she did was look at the phone. She’s always had this habit since that fateful morning her mum had called about her dad. Not one to look at her phone incessantly or even bother to reply to texts, she had perhaps slept through the first two calls her mum had made to her that morning, thinking her mum was just calling in sheer nervousness. When she finally did answer her phone, it was just to let her know that she should get onto a flight right now because the man who was her idol was now lying lifeless, far away in a hospital in Calcutta. And that was the last time she ever ignored her phone.

Her mum now lived alone in that house she had never known to be hers and while it was morbid and fatalistic, she knew that her phone was the only way she would know if anything horrible happened. Her friends laughed at her, he cited “expectations of communication” as one of the reasons but nobody knew the real reason she held onto her phone for dear life all the time.

II
She had met him “on the phone”. Twenty years after her relationship, the only one she had ever known and believed in, fell apart one sultry evening in July, her friends had insisted she get onto one of these dating apps that had become quite popular in the circuit.

“You are always on the phone” was what he had told her that evening while she stood in front of him trying to fathom why he had gone running into the arms of another woman seeking emotional comfort while she, his wife, didn’t know there was a world that existed outside him. It was ironic that he said this to her, straight-faced and absolutely unapologetic, considering he had spent apparently many an hour on the phone with this emotional anchor he had found. She looked away for a minute, gathered her nerves and asked him to find a house at the earliest and leave. She loved him for everything he was and everything he had given to her to make her who she was today. She had known him from the time she was 16 and today 20 years later even as she asked him to leave, she knew the love she had for him would never go. But this was the end. She would wish him well. It wasn’t her style, or so she thought, to hang onto something that clearly didn’t belong to her anymore.

III
He had this smile that reached from the corner of his mouth to his eyes. Wearing a blue tee, against a wide expanse of green, he looked down at her, smiling. She let it go, once, twice, thrice. But the fourth time she gave in. There was no harm. He seemed simple and nice and there was some sense of warmth that came right through the screen. Would he swipe right too, she thought as her thumb made its way across the screen. She was new to this, not knowing what to expect. Friends had all kinds of stories- good ones, creepy ones and hilarious ones. She didn’t know if she was ready. What was she looking for anyway?

It seemed to be a “match”. She looked at her phone nervously and wondered if she should say hi. There was enough hogwash about men making the first move and women seeming too desperate if they did. She never believed in that rubbish but all she could muster was a lame “hi”, not knowing whether he would even reply. 48 hours had passed and she gave up, thinking that it was perhaps her fat face or her love for beers she didn’t hide that made him stay away. No man would want to be with her. Heck, the man she thought would, had left her after 20 years. Why would someone else even bother. And as she lay there thinking of everything that could have gone through his head, her screen lit up. There he was, a very non-descript simple “hi” acknowledging hers.

IV
It was all uphill from there. They messaged each other, every single day, eight months straight. It didn’t matter that they were two countries apart with different time zones. He often laughed at her response time, almost immediately to any text, whether he lovingly complained about her laughter keeping him awake at night or telling her about the clear blue sky in Sydney and quoting a line from his favourite music, just to add that extra bit of warmth. He disappeared at times, days on end, making her sick with worry. And then he came back, every time, telling her he was caught up, he was ill, he was sorry. And that one text made all the difference. The anger that used to well up and blur her eyes with tears would melt that very moment and stream down her cheeks with relief, knowing he was well and safe, not realising she was going down the rabbit hole, falling desperately in love with a man she had never met.

Her friends told her to “speak” to him. ” Have a real phone conversation with him, go beyond text”, they told her. She knew they were right. She often asked him too but every time he put it off, she never brought it up, quite content with him just being there. They spoke about so many things, most of it being music. He promised to play for her, she promised to cook for him. He sent her music and many a selfie, looking goofy and flashing that smile that made her weak in the knees. She went to bed smiling, reliving the texts she sent him through the day, each day. Months passed. She spoke, he heard. He laughed, she loved.  And it was bang in the middle of one of these very simple Sunday afternoon lazy conversations that he disappeared. ” I think we shouldn’t talk. Your communication expectations are different from mine”, it read. She looked at the text, horrified and furiously punched away at her phone, explaining what she meant, asking him to calm down and listen to her. Many texts followed in the next two months. All, every single one of them, hers. Angry ones, pleading ones, lonely ones, loving ones. All emerging from a space of deep love, none tinged with even the slightest bit of regret.

V
“Hey, you are presumably a nice girl and I am sure you will find someone who is not a douche like me. I am seeing someone else and it wouldn’t be fair to her or to you that we communicate. Take care and have fun”.

She looked at the message, once, twice and many times over. Trying to make sense of it, she couldnt look at the words. They seemed to disappear under the blobs of tears that had now clouded her eyes, her brains and that part of the soul she was ready to share. This was what a breakup was like in the world of adult romance. Mature, crisp and apparently “fun”.

She relived that morning all over again. Putting together the end of her story, she decided it was time. He knew she wrote. He knew where to find her writing. Picking up her phone she scrolled down to his name. It would again be a text, from her to him. But it had to be done. He was loved. And he deserved to know it.