The red on the floor, Attracting notice of folks unknown, Hides a gory fable of pain. Flowers dipped in their own blood Rest on a dusty path, Dismembered from their nub. What meets the eye Is a beautiful lie.
Old petals fly with time, New ones augment to the unseen woe; Loneliness deepens. Some take a while to appreciate, Others pass an unbothered smile; The story is about that we cannot see. What meets the eye, Is a beautiful lie.
There was a change, a pleasant one; Sharanya did everything according to her routine, but her ways had changed. Gautam brought in that legitimate drag in her otherwise flawless melody of life. Phone conversations could never really satiate their minds; they often ran out of time and phone balance, never did they run out of topics. A meeting was inevitable; seeing each other became important now. Both of them fixed up a rezvendous; the college sports ground was perfect, they thought. Raima agreed to accompany her, and Gautam planned to bring Prakash along with him. Raima often used to talk about Prakash, and from whatever she said, it was quite evident that he had developed feelings for her.
The day blew in; Sharanya kept on hiding her inner excitement with a few words of pessimism, her eagerness to see Gautam in the sports ground was showing up on her face, and some of her classmates had begun sensing something suspicious. Raima was also trying to help Sharanya in searching for Gautam until he appeared in front of them, with Prakash standing next to him. Gautam smiled on sighting upon Sharanya, whose cheeks were flushed enough to be noticed. Raima looked disgruntled and left the place as soon as she saw Prakash, who tried making feeble gestures with his hands at calling her back.
Eventually, Prakash left the spot in search of Raima, leaving Gautam and Sharanya; both of them apparently, did not know what to talk about. Gautam made attempts at breaking this silence of sighs by cracking silly jokes to which Sharanya laughed heartily. This continued for a while, after which Gautam received a phone call from a senior, who asked him to go to his hostel immediately.
“I am sorry. I have to go now, but we’ll meet again in the evening.”, said Gautam, realising that Sharanya wanted him to stay there a little longer. Sharanya waved at him, and they parted ways. The idea of a second meeting seemed pretty exciting to her, but Raima’s absence had been troubling her as well. As soon as she began looking for her, she noticed a big tree under which her room mate was standing: her eyes were looking sad. On noticing each other, she went near Raima; both of them wanted to leave the ground for separate reasons.
On getting back to their accomodation, Raima asked her a few questions, faking interest; she was troubled with her own problems, and that was quite obvious from her way of talking. Both of them were very tired, so they slept for sometime until Sharanya was awakened from her deep sleep by her clamorous ringtone; it was Gautam. She changed her clothes hurriedly, put on a sweater, and left for the second rezvendous.
The sky, which had been blue and clear in the morning was now grey; Sharanya felt few drops of rain pouring on her skin, and each time she heard the rumbling of thunder clouds, she got startled. By the time she reached where Gautam was standing, she was soaked to the skin. Gautam, who was carrying an umbrella, could not save himself from this untimely downpour as well; the holes on his umbrella were to be blamed. Both of them laughed at each other’s condition; Gautam was trying hard to hide his irritation, but Sharanya’s presence made him forget the cause.
They started walking; at times, they stole glances at each other, and whenever they used to get caught, they looked sideways and pretended as if nothing had happened. The redness of their faces became more prominent while indulging in these acts. They sighed frequently, and after having walked some distance, he came closer and held her hand. “Please, no hanky panky!” Sharanya’s face grew grim as she tried inching away from Gautam. “I won’t do anything to dishonour you. I just wanted to hold your hand. I am sorry.” Gautam’s eyes were replete with honesty. Sharanya felt comforted and held his hand tightly; both of them smiled without the hesitation of being caught while looking into each other’s eyes.
They talked, they laughed, they shivered in the mirth of being close to each other, and lastly, they forgot their way back; a rickshaw came to their rescue. It was time for Sharanya to go back, and Gautam safely dropped her off; he stayed until he stopped seeing Sharanya, who often kept looking back at him while walking down to her accomodation. Both of them felt a connection that they had never felt before; it was their ideal story! The non-idealities of this world seemed to be very far and unreal at this point.
The month of February ushered in the beginning of a brand new semester and beautiful weather in Jalpaiguri; one could just fall in love with nothing while walking on the streets and yet feel everything. They often say that all of it lies in your mind, but it is really hard to notice those fresh red roses stacked up in almost every shop that you come across and still not feel the butterflies in your belly. However, Sharanya’s mind was too troubled with Stephen-Boltzmann’s law to think about what was happening around her; understanding new concepts of Quantum Mechanics appealed to her more than talking to new people or getting to know them.
Raima (Sharanya’s room mate) was bored of seeing that same old Sharanya on the bed next to her; she thought that there was no variation in her life. Unlike complaining against this to the other girls, she thought of fixing this up, all by herself. Not that it was a problem; it was just Raima’s way of cheering up her room mate, who she thought of as a melancholic lady, having nothing to do other than solving sums. Raima’s charm was irresistible, something that came out of simplicity and went a long way in gathering suitors from different departments of their college. Sharanya, being a complete introvert, had come in touch with a few strange seniors who gave her books at the cost of intimidating advice, and well, nothing could scare her more than failing.
Many a new face had become a part of Raima’s friend circle; Sharanya knew some of them, and the others were stranger than strangers to her. Raima had been mentioning a new friend quite often in front of Sharanya, who had joined them on a boating trip. The matter was fine until Raima suggested that they start dating each other, and this seemed really irritating to Sharanya. “Okay, so I have given your number to Gautam. He’ll be calling you in a couple of minutes. Be ready.” “Why on earth did you give my number to a stranger? I have no time for this.” Sharanya’s eyes fixated on the power radiated by a black body, which is proportional to the fourth power of temperature.
Just as Raima had told, Sharanya’s phone started ringing; she looked at Raima with an apprehensive face, who was constantly signalling her to pick up the call with her teasing winks. Sharanya accepted the call and went to a vacant room adjoining theirs. Raima was interested in knowing what was happening as she could hear Sharanya singing occasionally. Sharanya came back after an hour almost; her eyes were shining, and it seemed as if she had to put in immense efforts to hide her smile. “You were singing, weren’t you? I knew that you would like Gautam.” “He, umm, well, he is really sweet.”, blushed Sharanya while casually flipping the pages of her physics book.
The last page desires my attention Much more than the first one; It wishes to mark the end of a story And unwind in the full stop’s glory. The tale pours in; Reminiscence retards, Dexterity drives.
In distant lands, two souls reside; Hidden strings of her mind cascade melody Into the pores of his unvaried life. The sky connects them disregarding their boundaries, A “star-way” builds up to convey untold messages. She makes rings of smoke with her breath, His glasses become hazy and a regretful smile unfurls.
Words quivered more than fingers; The tale ended; Not a single page remained untouched. Dexterity faded, Reminiscence lingered.
A very happy new year to all my readers and fellow bloggers. 2020 has really been a very tough year for each one of us, but the best part is, we have battled it like brave warriors. May this new year fill our lives with positivity and wisdom; may this year alleviate the effect of the COVID-19 pandemic and restore us to normalcy.
Bewitched by the charm of haze, I walk through the minutiae of a maze; My eyes flutter in confusion, The bizzare thoughts bring on. The mist of my own mystery clears up; The enigma of emptiness steals control.
Actions become drunken slaves of Purpose; Sensibility fails to wipe the ruckus Off my mind. Strange it is, stranger it becomes; Darkness goes deeper than black, I rejoice in the colours that I lack. I wish this moment never fades, I hope I never see the lights again.
It is not the first time I am doing this; revisiting memories has always cheered me up since I was a teenager. Places of the past mingled with the mist of my future took me to a world where my present stood in front of me in a different light.
Leaning against the parapet of my terrace, I watched the stars intently as my eyelids fluttered, my senses were slowly giving in to the intoxication of open air.
I had traversed many a city on foot and many others in my mind. There were days when the clouds mimicked my motion, trying to share my tension on dreary mornings and evenings lit up by traffic lights, taking away the boredom surrounding me. I couldn’t see many flowers blossoming, and this used to irk me always. Not many people could bother me except for a few whose orders I could not refuse; they were the only source of distraction in my world, but I never ran out of entertainment because of them. Streams of sorrow, blinding my eyes, often got mixed with raindrops or left stains on my pretty kerchiefs; an hour of star gazing healed me back into the bright sunny person that I always had been. Wherever I have been, one hope has never left my side: I will be happy. For this, I am what I am.
Intoxication prevails; Deep down, I know of lies, Mistakes breathing stealthily Inside the coffin of truth, Trying to break an illusion: There is consummation in incompletion.
Expectations are used to their own stabs, Love desires to indulge in this bloody act, More often than not. Insobriety intensifies; A delusion defying the yardstick of cost, Churns the body, Keeping the mind alive.