She wasn’t there when he arrived. She wouldn’t come, he was sure of it. God! How he begged her, for one last chance to see her, before she left. It wasn’t going to happen for the next five years he knew. And then? Same old, same old… his heart harped. The first love, the first crush, the first infatuation in his life, and he was going to lose it all. To say that he now felt deeply, and empathized with all the unrequited lovers before him was an understatement.
Yesterday, when he had met her, he implored with her, setting aside all his manly distaste for begging, to meet for a cup of coffee at The Third Floor, where they would be privacy, and yet she’d feel alright. So there he was at the ground floor, looking more desperate as each moment passed. Half an hour after the time he’d asked her to be there, he knew, despairingly that this was it. He resisted the urge to keep checking his cell phone, and the longing to text or call. The response he would get, or wouldn’t wasn’t how he wanted to remember her. Even so he continued to wait.
Life, he mused, tragically, in the same vein as all those who love and lose, was such a bi*@#. No seriously. If she did not come, or call… All the ifs of his wishes, he was willing to forgo, for the pleasure of seeing her before she left across the oceans, to pursue her dreams. His dreams? Ah. The pain was sharp and slow.
A bird chirped. That notification note! Joyfully, he swiped across the screen, to see her name along with the message. An apology, wishes, a goodbye. Just like that. He did appreciate her telling him so but wished she’d done it in person. Would their friendship sustain? Distance had a way killing a lot of things, and an unresolved relationship didn’t stand a chance.
Dramatically, he vowed never to get into such a situation again. His energies would find a new direction. He’d put all his angst into his work at college. He was set for life. The drama helped quell the turbulence of his heart, and he quietly walked across the road that led into the small centralized shopping area. Perhaps he should call a friend, just in case, you know. Immediately quashing that tremulous thought, he kicked a stone, that flew up and hit a motorist, fortunately on his arm. The abuse hurled his way actually made him feel better. Just then his phone rang.
“Da! You get here soon. Ten minutes. We’re waiting for you!” That was Singham that irrepressible, lion-hearted bear of a friend. Quite unempathetic, but good enough to unwind with.
“Where are you?”
“Bleddy fool. Here! Remember? Trident!” Singham roared.
“Oh ya, ya, ya. Coming da!”
He sped across to Trident.
There they were, Singham, Pashu and Mani, waving tickets. “Can you beat it? We got tickets for Baahubali!” Pashu was screaming.
Quickly, the four of them got into the theatre. Singham held back, asked the other two to go on, and gestured with his little finger. Laughing, they went ahead. The cinema hall was a riot. Luckily there were seat numbers, and the trio settled in. The lights began to dim, music played, whistles and catcalls rent the air. The only light was from the screen now.
He wondered if he’d enjoy the much talked about film, the feelings still being raw and all. The next moment, the empty seat next to him was taken, and he leaned over to ask Singham how he got the tickets. As he did so, Singham leaned over to him. Huh? Singham?
An all too familiar fragrance, the soft hand that curled around his, with a softer Hello in his ear…
D’you really think I’d leave without seeing you?
Baahubali lost out to the bigger blockbuster of his life.
21 July, 2015
Almost all the writes here have a way of writing themselves down. This one is no exception. I’m merely a tool in the hands of them words; therefore any responsibility for the nonsensical nature of this one rests solely with the words, not the rambler, who has said many a time that she is but a conduit 😛