Posts Tagged ‘love fiction’

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.



‘And I always thought, I am damn safe in my own cocoon’

She switched off the lights after taking her daily midnight bath.

She had always loved it -water, bubbles and self, completely immersed in the bath tub, thinking nothingness for an hour.

Like always, she had taken the same short cut back home from office, she had cooked the same boring oat meal for dinner and she had slipped into her old boring grey night wear to say goodnight to the world. Like always, she had thought.

She turned her back towards the only window in her room.

The window had been nice to her ever since she has shifted in the office. She would drink her morning coffee, looking down at the weird dog owners who would run behind their dogs from her window. She would sometimes, paint beside the window, looking closely at the passerby. She had also sobbed looking at the window, in the hope that someone somewhere was watching her cry. Like always, window has been her only companion in the room.

She did not want to be disturbed. She did not want to see the flashing lights of the vehicle passing under her window. She did not want to hear the roaring sounds of the trucks laden with fruits, vegetables or anything. She wanted sleep. She wanted peace. She wanted solitude.

‘She had always been a loner’; her mother had always told her friends, neighbors and relatives in despair. Though, she would always chuckle at her mother’s remarks. She knew, she was not a loner. She had friends. She had people to talk to. She had companions to hang out with. But her preference was to talk to self, her entertainment was hanging out alone and her friend was her only soul.

She looked at the clock again. 2.30 am. Still hours to go to wake up, she thought closing her eyes tightly. ‘Sleep, sleep, sleep please’, she authoritatively told herself.

She had shifted to a flat away from home for her job. She would visit her mother once in two months. Other than that, her weekends were mainly wasted in creating few more paintings, reading about psychology and cooking ‘good food’. She would also take out one Saturday for Feni, her flatmate and hang out buddy in the unknown city. They both would sneak into their converse, wear loose T-shirts and would walk through the lanes in Pyjamas. Amidst the solitude, Feni was her only interaction with the outer world.

She stared at the clock. 2.45 am. It seemed, the clock has been stuck. She switched on the lights to have a closer look. 2.46 am. May be, the clock moved faster in her supervision, she thought.

She switched on the TV to watch news.

It had been 5 months that she had stopped going out with Feni too. She would stay in her room whole day, only coming out to cook. Sometimes, she would even skip cooking and stay hungry whole day. She had also started avoiding Feni’s room. She would behave as if the room never existed.

The news seemed sad. It talked how the stars play a role in screwing every body’s life, or how a saint can molest a girl or how the country is moving and growing. Nothing interested her. Her eyes wanted to sleep. But her heart would not let her; after all, it was again a Saturday. A Saturday meant to be spent with Feni, her dear buddy.

It had been a usual Saturday with Feni. Though, she had decided to leave early alone. She had planned to pick some gifts for Feni. She had gone to a florist to buy some yellow and pink flowers of her choice, she had ordered a customized cake showing two girls on a bike for her and she had even brought a nice floral dress for her. After all, Feni was getting married!

They both have decided to meet at the Bakers, their favorite shop to try varieties of cakes and chocolates.

She had waited for Feni forever that day, but Feni had not come. Annoyed, she had thrown the gift in the bin while returning home. She had tip-toed straight to her room, sure of not asking for any explanations. She had cried whole night thinking about the possible reason of not showing up, and had later slept off.

She reluctantly decided to knock at the Feni’s door. She opened her door and stared for a minute towards her room. Lights were still on. She dragged her feet slowly towards the room. After gathering all her courage, she forced opened her room.

She had not cared to ask for Feni the whole week.  She had re-assumed her work following week and had ignored her room. She had often wondered about the absence of calls from Feni, it was so unlike her. Though, her anger would stop her anxious self.

After 10 days of ‘pretentious ignoring Feni’, she had decided to talk to Feni face to face. She had come home early that night and had gone towards her room straight away.  After an hour of continuous knocking and struggling to get through her room door, she had called the boys she knew. The male gang had broken the door that night to witness the horrific incident. 

Feni’s dead fiancé slept naked on the blood stained bed. The room smelled blood and flesh. It seemed, someone had dragged him in the room by his soft beautiful hair, which Feni had always loved. The mirror in the room stood unbroken with some patches of dried blood.

Shocked, she had vigorously searched for Feni. Walking through the messed room and broken flower pots, she had cried within herself.

‘Feni, oh dear Feni’, she had thought.

She stood staring at the bed. She could still visualize the dead fiancé. She could still smell the blood and the flesh in the room. She could still see Feni chattering nonchalantly over phone. And she could still see Feni fading away from the room and her life.

‘5 months or 5 years, you are always missed oh my dear…’