Posts Tagged ‘fiction love’

images (1) “Everybody seems overly excited, isn’t it”, he chuckled while writing ferociously in his leather diary.

The plump, fat possibly, in a tight fitted red dress lady was addressing her female fans around.  She often blurted a slight laugh by twisting her lips in some ugly pouts. He knew it never had worked for her.

He glanced across the room. Packed with 60 living creatures, room looked too small for him to find his distraction.

Sporadically, few of her female fans would look each other in admiration. The leader lady, he thought, was still beautiful. Even though little over-sized now, her figure was not ‘out-of-shape’. Her love handles seemed neatly packed inside the tummy tuck she might have worn. Her upper body revealed no extra fat which might have forced her cleavage to show off. She was now a plus size perfection!

He gulped his third pint of Tuborg. A young looking man passed through him to order whiskey on the rocks. He stared at him in dismay. The man gulped the drink in a sip and went towards the couch at the right end of the room, swaying his hips to indicate his drunken state.

He was not sure of his next drink. He drifted away from the bar, the place which might entice him to opt for another Tuborg.

‘Why king is made on the door always?’ he thought aloud to himself while entering the loo- 3 pints and already peeing for the fourth time. DAMN! Exasperated, he tried unzipping to do the business.

The party looked unchanged when he returned. Red lady with fat still attracted other females. The slouched man still lingered around his crowd. And he still stood ‘alone’ beside the bartender.

Someone cleared the mike with a husk ‘HELLO’. Standing in a golden dress with a slit, the Emcee woman looked no less than a celebrity. His heart skipped a beat, he assumed. He listened carefully again.

It was strange. At the age of 37, he was still exploring his options by going to various parties. Being a journalist, he always had been on move till now, travelling to places he had not heard before.

Though, not a single day had gone by, when he had not thought of getting married. After the resignation from his last employer, it had become difficult for him to stay in 2 BHK alone. He would get up; feed self with toast jam and milk, spending most of his nights in parties he would not know. The routine had been unchanged since past 2 years.

The plump lady in red dress had taken the stage. He could hardly hear now, possibly because of his drunken mind or over-excited applauding crowd.

He had decided not to attend any party tonight. After numerous failed attempts to get over with the last night hangover, it was sensible of him to stay indoors. However, the ex-colleague request had made him step out to cover another party for the weekend edition. Trying to fit into his best outfits, he had driven to the venue reminding self to be sober. It was work which he could not mess unlike his personal screwed life.

Though, he soon had lost his mind when he saw that lady in a tight fitted red dress. After the first pint of Tuborg, she had been easy for him to look at. He always knew, the drink would help him in need.

“2 Margarita, please” – a couple distracted his thoughts.

He had dated her for 12 precious years, when finally she had decided to move out. It had been difficult for him. He was 35, with baggage of job responsibilities and no emotional support.

She did not want to get settled at her age, which she believed was too young. 

He had resigned from his loving job to explore. Explore a solution to his remorse. But 2 years had not been enough. His otherwise cleaned house was a mess, his friends no more updated him with their lives and couple hangout was banned from his life.

He had become bankrupt emotionally though on and off freelancing projects had been helping him with his finances.

Tonight had been his confrontation with the past – the past he was still struggling to get over with.

He quickly gulped another pint.

In last 2 years, he had avoided every contact which might end him at her door. Their common friends were no longer his friends, their favorite joints were his hate list and their bedroom was his storeroom. She had been difficult for him to forget.

He was at his 8th bottle when she finally finished speaking.

She now knew him more than anyone else, yet he had spent the entire day rehearsing to propose her and be his best. That day he had decorated the house with her favorite lilies and roses. The dinner he cooked and the suit he wore seemed perfect for the upcoming celebrations.

Though, her verdict came as a surprise to him. She had already rented a flat elsewhere and the day was her last day with him.

He scribbled the last point in his diary and decided to leave.

Special comment by the host was the least he could ignore in this success party, he thought in anger.

Epilogue: She had worked her ass out to reach the place where she was. She wanted everything- money, fame and passion. Love had never been her priority. He was her best roommate and the person she adored. The bed activities she enjoyed with him were part of her friendship she knew.

That day, his proposal to get married had pissed her off. She always had told him about her plans and her ‘disinterest’ in marriages. She always had told him about her ‘willingness’ to continue like this forever. But his ignorance to all her wishes had forced her to move out of her comfort friend.

She had stayed at her friends place for a week to find a separate accommodation. She switched her job and made new friends. She even deleted his photos she preserved in her hidden files.

She had seen him at the party today. She knew he still stared her with love. She knew she still was important to him. And she knew she still did not want to marry him.

She had seen him kicking his bike, blabbering something in anger. She though stood there, watching him fade into the dark, sipping her last drink for the day in peace.

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77088-20120920110901-lbIt was the fourth time that her phone rang. She stared at the screen, it was mother again.

She was only 10 when her parents had decided for her – Emily would go to boarding school for rest of her life. It was hard for her to understand the reasons behind. She had cried whole night, cursing her parents. She had assumed that her parents did not love her anymore.

She stared at the screen again. It was 11:00pm. Parents would not call her now. She switched off the phone and threw it inside the side drawer – among her hair clips, rosemary and candies.

Ms. Johnson had greeted her with open arms that day – ensuring that Emily meets the best of people and love the school. She was offered front seat near the window at class, Ms Johnson arranged for extra candies during break for her and also took her out for stroll during late evenings to watch rabbits behind the school.

She looked herself in the mirror; she was grown up adolescent now. She tried smiling hard, but her face seemed cold without emotion.

It had been 6 years now that Emily had made home away from home.

School did not allow phone calls during weekdays, Saturdays and Sundays were meant to be Emily’s best days in the week. She would get up early, visit church and would wait near the only phone on her floor at the corner of the building. Every weekend, her mother would call her sharp at 10:00am. It had become a ritual for her. After a hearty conversation with mommy dear, Emily would play with her best friend Carrie for an hour and would slurp delicious lunch at Ms Johnson’s house. Evenings were spent painting and completing pending home works. After dinner, Emily would again watch the phone till 9:30pm when her father would call. Everything had been routine.

Among the clumsy pool of 36 beds, she had got the 5th bed beside the window. After every 2 months, the settings changed, to ensure every girl gets a bed near the window- the only place where the fans looked bit effective.

She changed herself in the pink night dress, which she had brought herself last year from the Christmas money. She admired the settings for the last time and started packing her bags.

In 6 years, not even once had she been called back home. During vacations, her parents would come down to meet her, often carrying unnecessary gifts. Father would send ‘extra money’ after her 3rd year in the school, giving excuses she never understood. Sometimes, mother would talk about a little girl named Julie whom she disliked for no reasons. Everything was bizarre for her- her family, Julie and her ‘forced family vacations’.

She collected memoirs gifted by her friends on her 15th birthday, she then swept the ‘tiny wax animals’ on the table top she had brought from the Zoo; she also folded the bed sheets in neat rectangular shapes to fit the only truck she had.

After 3 hours of hard work, everything she had accumulated in 6 years was packed in a truck and 3 bags. She gave the final look to her bed and window with nostalgia and bid adieu.

Last weekend, she had not received any call from her parents but a letter explaining her things she did not know till now. Problems in marital life of her parents had compelled them to send her to boarding. During her 2nd year away from home, they had applied for a divorce to end daily remorse. Soon after the first summon from court, parents had realize the dreadful end of their love marriage. Mother had cried in father’s arm, recalling the happier times and missing Emily. That is when Julie had happened to them. They had then reconsidered their divorce appeal.

However, after Julie turned one, things got worse yet again. Both had their own reasons to get out of the marriage they had nurtured for 18 years. Mother was fed up of father and his emotionless life and father would complain of her demanding nature.

The letter they had written was a request more than the information. Divorce was at its final stage and before applying for custody, both wanted to know the decision of Emily -whom would she choose to stay with?

Mother had specified categorically that Julie had been the only hope when Emily was not around and she was too small to live without her.

 But nowhere did the letter mention- who wanted Emily to stay with them?

She was called before the jury in the witness box. She could see her mother sitting next to a girl in blue stripped frock, caressing her curls with her fingers and crying occasionally. She also saw her father sitting at the far end of the court, looking drunk, he seemed staring and conversing something to his feet.

Emily handed a letter to the jury and looked at the floor, trying to avoid stares if any. She was now confident of what she wanted.

‘Dear Mom and Dad, I have always seen you together and would love to see you guys like that. I want to imagine this as a nightmare I had because I did not do my daily prayers last night. I want to imagine this as a stupid game you guys play with me when I am angry at you.

Mother, I don’t like the little creature Julie, she is luckier than me to have you around but I don’t want to complain. Father, I don’t like to see you absent minded when you visit me.

I can’t choose one of you. You both are willing to let me go to the other one. I would rather assume my life intact by your divorce and return to my dear Hostel, where I have got a family which still awaits me.

All the best, do see me during vacations like always (if possible)

Emily’

She received message from Ms Johnson – ‘When do I see you?’ and she replied ‘TONIGHT’.

She left the court without a word, her eyes unable to see anything because of the extra water. No one stopped her, and she did not wait.

Once she was out of the court, she dumped her phone and walked slowly towards her only home.

She woke up with the sound of a vehicle at a distant. It was already morning; Sun had been right above her head, shining with its maximum strength. She looked around. Nutella box seemed half eaten; she could smell rotten eggs beneath her and there was some sticky paste her hand had caught.

Disgusted, she tried getting up to get away with the mess. Night had been long, too long for her to remember. She recalled some parts of it. She recollected the fragments to build a story. While her mind still struggled to come back with a sensible story, her body seemed to have already lost the strength. She tried getting up again, but every try made the case even worse. Her body no longer supported her.

The night had been dark. She was coming back from her daily work when someone had tried to follow her. She had fastened her steps, often looking at the back to get a view of the follower, also to check the distance between them. Everything had continued till she had reached the road bustled with people. There were no footsteps that followed her, there was no more fear of being followed and there were people around to help her.

She had walked rather confidently, passing the decorated shops, excusing the crowd and appreciating the lanterns put along the road. Everything seemed beautiful and serene. Everyone seemed happy and busy.

After few turns and houses, she had reached the cross road. She had been just a lane away from home. Delighted, she had ignored the absence of vehicles or people around. She had been happy, she was almost home.

After like hundredth trial, she could still not roll or move her body. Yes, her hands did function and so did her legs, but the rest of the body, it seemed she had lost her control over it. She cried rather aloud, trying to attract passersby, if any, to help her out. No one was around, or perhaps, did not seem to care for her anymore.

Footsteps which she had ignored were still there. They had followed her through the dark, walking along her without any noise. They had planned meticulously when she had been busy observing the street and way. They had increased in numbers while she still walked all alone.

Strangers, four to five of them had dragged her from the cross road towards the left. The street where no one lived or at least, no one whom she knew lived. She had tried to shout to ask for help, though a hand on mouth had made it harder for her to breathe even. They had ripped off her clothes and had pulled off her hair. She had imagined herself bald, crying and pleading mercy. They had shown no emotions. It seemed, they had become mechanical to perform the activity. One among them had also suggested rape, to which other four had denied; possibly they had lost interest to seek pleasure from a bald beaten lady.

She laid half covered with the torn blue skirt her mother had gifted her last new year.  She was still breathing, at times, hearing them say. They had called someone to inform the happening, definitely not cops. They had then searched her purse violently and had shown disappointment.  They had kicked her hard in bowel before leaving, letting her shriek for the last time.

She had assumed herself dead, until this morning, when she had opened her eyes again.

She could hear someone speak near, perhaps a woman enquiring about a girl. Could it be mother, she thought. She tried shouting, though all she could hear was her own cry.

The woman came closer to her to have a look, she seemed old and worried. She was not her mother. In spite of being clueless, woman offered her a hand. She tried reaching to her, but her hands seemed shrunk by the incidents of the night. Woman, almost smiling then, picked her up in her arms.

What? Had she entered into a world of giants? Or had she reduced to a miniature being? She had debated within herself for long.

She was struggling, with her own questions and with the tight hold of the woman. It was suffocating her. She wept with all her strength, trying to grab some attention of mother-like woman.

She could now understand that she was no longer a woman but a newly born child who needs care.

She had understood her fate last night, when she was beaten and harassed by men at the cross road, trying to find something meaningful out of her. She now knew she no longer had lived after the moonlight, her eyes witnessing the last predicament. She had been born again to some parents she did not know, who had abandoned her in garbage bin for quite long.

She now knew, whatever the fate was, one never dies… they only shift places and bid good byes

“The night when I had said my last good bye, I did not know I will never die…

Over the night I was not a woman but small, who only cried and could not even roll”