Virtual Marionette

Those were the days of our
premature adulthood when we used
to stay covered with people. Identity
crisis was slowly giving way to a
resplendent personality to grow and
stay with us for the rest of our lives.
Of all the faces that I came across
during those days, one stayed with
me. It is one of a kind, a face that
one cannot usually forget. I met him
accidentally at a gathering, on a
spring afternoon. His sharp eyes
narrated a million stories and I
reflected, seriousness can be
addictive too. He smiled at me and I
stood there, speechless. That day
witnessed an undying feeling. This
wasn’t as red as love, nor was it as
white as pure friendship. It was
something else, a deeper shade of
pink.

That meeting turned out to
be shorter than my
expectations as I had to
leave for another place but
our friendship started off
immediately after this. We
never saw each other very
frequently but whenever we
did, he used to greet me
with his unusually usual
smile. Whenever his lips
went on a smiling spree, his
eyes participated in that as
well. Yes, in this world of
cliched red roses, he is my
fuchsia.

As years rolled by, he kept on
giving me innumerable
moments to treasure and
cherish. His all-permeating
voice reaching out to me,
defying the bounds of the
lush green fields, still
reverberates in my ears; that
“Shreya” still echoes.
It’s been years and still it feels
like the dream isn’t over yet.
My silence and the dust of
distance has made this tale
yellowish but the pages of my
heart are still as fresh as the
day when I first saw him.

And what about that last dance
at Shanti paara, in front of the
crowd, that we had planned? Like
my dream it is alive too.
I know that someday you’ll get
all the success that you have
ever wished for. That day you’ll
be driving on a lonely road and
you’ll be stopped by a familiar
face. A hand that wanted to reach out to you, long back, will stretch out to you, yet again, disregarding the pause of the years. The strife in your mind will subside and you’ll find yourself rejoicing amidst umpteen bubbles, each of them would rejuvenate your senses before bursting into nothing. The smile on your face will shine brighter than the rainbows of these objects of delusion. There will just be the three of us: you, Ecstasy and I!

Alas! The four-year journey was drawing to a turbulently calm end. Some were busy piling up clothes inside their suitcases while most of the others were unburdening their hearts by shedding away droplets of nostalgia.

Every morning, the sun lighting up the East sky reminded the students of the limited number of days they have in their hands. The hostel rooms which once used to be covered with dirt and spider webs, were now shrouded in cobwebs of memories.

She took out a diary from her cupboard and started flipping the pages until she found a blank one. She smiled as she knew that only one person was left to fill up her farewell diary, that special one.

Next day, after the Farewell party, she saw that “special person” on the ground. Without giving a second thought, she started walking straight until he noticed her. Both of them smiled coyly at each other.

“Fill this up. May be this is our last…”
He took away the diary from her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Pages may get washed away, good memories won’t.”
A fervent silence pervaded in the ground.
She longed to say “I love you, I do” but all that her quivering lips could afford was “Adieu”.

Finally, that day arrived when the campus witnessed a large number of its residents moving out, yet again.

She kept walking with the crowd,  with a huge trunk in her hand and two diaries filled with “sands of time”.

What about the third diary?

Well, that too was in its right place, where it should have been long ago.