Incomplete #5

He waited with a bated breath for her to betray a glimpse of that unflinching storehouse of utmost affection that she had once showered on him. His condition, he felt, was like a moth ready to char itself to death in the devastating flame of the candle. He loved the heartburn more than ever. Inside him, his heart was creating a deafening ruckus. To his surprise, he realised that the lively Ananya had lost the spark she carried effortlessly as a young undergraduate in Delhi University. Prominent dark circles showed beneath bewitchingly demure eyes which had perhaps, in the last couple of years known a lot more pain than a tender soul as hers could carry. She looked so fragile and helpless. Ishaan felt dizzy, as if an ocean of emotions wrecked havoc within him. It ran in his veins with terrifying ferocity. He felt a sudden desrire to take her in his arms and let the expressive eyes tell him her story.

Ananya’s thoughts, on the other hand, were going through a turbulent storm in which incessant memories hurled themselves against her calm demeanor. They threw in front of her whatever had, at one time, passed between her and Ishaan. They had once again ignited the desire to be loved. She regretted having stopped.
But as destiny would have it, distrust and agony reigned supreme in the end, thus taming the wild turbulence her mind was racing through.
***
‘You must restrain yourself from trying to make amends now, Ishaan. You know that once anyone loses my trust, I’d rather not have anything to do with that person if I can help it. I’m surprised, though, that you even dared to shamelessly ask for an apology for an act that has, lets say, deleted you from my mind.’
Ishaan looked on listlessly.
‘Is it not enough, Anu, that I’ve come home to you? Now I know that it’s not Riddhi but you that I want to be with in the end. Does it matter so much that this realisation comes a bit later?’ He looked at her squarely.
Ananya shook her head in desperation, concealing the disappointment that he wasn’t able to see how much his actions had hurt him. How he had said things that would stay with her throughout life, pinching her conscience. She stood up, pushing the chair behind her with such a noise that Mrs. Rosy, the assistant librarian, looked up, eyeing her sternly. ‘Silence please!’
Embarrassed, Ananya apologised and turned to Ishaan, leaning forward and said, ‘Considering how tactless you can be at times, Ishaan Sharma, let me get my point straight. I’m just sick of your trial and error method of finding out which lucky girl takes you home. Do you think I even give a damn about who you’ve zeroed in upon? You should’ve known better than sleeping with her.’
Ishaan was too shocked to react against her tirade. Ananya softened a bit. She was struggling hard to gulp down a lump that was weighing down on her and tried to keep herself from clying. She must be strong.
‘This is my life, for God’s sake! It isn’t a fucking TV show! You are never to contact me again. I’m going back home next week…
-she paused-
…and that ends it.’
She stormed towards the checking out counter. Ishaan rallied behind, trying to talk to her.
‘Anu, please listen to me once naa.’
He overtook her and fixed himself between her and the exit. ‘Lets talk things out. Give me a chance to explain.’
Anu lost her temper and glanced around. Quite a number of heads had turned towards the two. She almost found herself shouting.
‘ENOUGH!
Get out of my way.’
Mr. Shantanu Ghosh, the History Professor noticed the commotion and stepped in, throwing an inquisitive glance at Ishaan. ‘Is there a problem here?’ Ananya shook her head and answered in a composed tone.
‘None Sir.’
‘Still, would you two consider taking your personal issues outside the library?’ Ishaan walked out and stood in the corridor, leaning against a wall.
Ananya walked past him and stopped short. She turned to face him.
‘I hope I never see you again.’
Ishaan pursed his lips and nodded.
‘As you wish, Ananya.’
***
Back, in the market, Ananya didn’t let even a hint of her emotions show on her face. She gave a cursory glance with no approval of recognition, turned, and walked away.

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Delusion

‘Have you ever nurtured a dream for so long that it begins to imply nothing but meaninglessness?’ She asked him, sliding her arm in his, as they sat overlooking the sunset over a distant horizon.
‘Elaborate, dear’, he replied nonchalantly.
A cool breeze brushed past the young couple. She tucked away curly locks behind her ear and smiled faintly.
‘Like holding on to memories until that remind of nothing. Like humming a familiar tune until you lose track of it. Like walking down a road you’ve trodden on so many times that all of a sudden you realize that you’re lost.’
He shook his head.
‘How can you be intrigued by things that don’t matter?’
She sighed. How deeply she wished he would see things and feel emotions the way she did.’ What matters then?’
He slipped his fingers into hers and said, ‘Ambitions, achievements, comfort, your love for me; these matter.’ She wondered if the order of the priorities in his life was reflected in the aforesaid sentence.
‘What about your love for me?’ She looked at her hand which he held firmly and tried to feel the touch but failed.
‘Don’t be silly. You know I love you.’ At this confirmation she lifted her head and looked at him. To her utter dismay, she now was looking at a complete stranger. Her words came mocking at her. . .

Like holding on to memories until that remind of nothing.
Like humming a familiar tune until you lose track of it.
Like walking down a road you’ve trodden on so many times that all of a sudden you realize that you’re lost.

Gently, she pulled herself from him and stood up.
‘Are you leaving already?’ he said.
She gazed at the crimson sky veiled in her heart’s disappointment.
‘It has been a long time coming. I must leave.’ She walked away, leaving him to his own thoughts.
The breeze blew past them yet again.
To him, comforting and mystical; to her, cold and ruthless.

It ends?

Your reasons are beyond me.
Do I not interest you anymore,
now being within your reach?
Months of hide and seek,
an adventurous escapade.
And it ends?

I’m not the mysterious puzzle anymore.
Did it take you so long to realise?
That I can’t be flawlessly beautiful at all time.
That I might be messy and untidy and I ought to be excused.
That I can’t forever stay young.
You are just like them.
Like all of them.

Take away these memories.
Heaps of absolute rubbish.
Go away, sweet heart.
There’s but one regret,
down the years when you realise,
that you wronged a heart which loved you so,
you might want to come running,
begging me for another chance.
Oh frail me!
I may not be here,
my love.
I shall not be here.

Bare

Locked up within trecherous depths of apprehension,
a blatant assertion laid bare.
It shocks and surprises you,
it startles me.
Read between the lines and you will find out why.
And while you and me, go on distractedly,
holding on in speculation of ‘Perhaps,maybe,I wish, I hope. . . ‘
while the brutish truth stares in my eyes,
and I look away.
All the truth, like an open book.
And while choose to turn pages and be engrossed,
here’s a book wanting to be embedded in your intellectual spirit.

What you desire is mine.
And while we let go of the sadistic contempt made obvious,
hold my hand and lead me through.
I surrender my being to you.
Read between the lines.
Between the wrecks of a heart that has been bottled up
and thrown into a sea of crowded emotions.
Hoping to be picked up by you,
wishing to open up.
So desperately vying for an eternal kiss,
the ghost of an embrace that didn’t exist.
Between my thoughts and yours.
Let them entangle and become a perplexed storm,
painful to envision a lonely existence.
My feelings lie here, undressed, bare.
And in the glow that your eyes burn with,
they gleam and glisten.

Love today

Love, a word that has become so frequently used today so that it has lost its magical charm in the imagination of young lovers. I’m talking about romantic love. In an era where it is simple enough to fall in love with someone you’ve met over a social networking site, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep the charm alive and kicking. ‘Break-ups’ are the norm of the day where attraction towards somebody is supposed to be identified as love. Had the romantics been alive today, they’d have torn their hair apart to realize what the word ‘romance’ now means. Times change. So do definitions. What really needs to be answered today is the question whether the newfound ecstasy would last long enough.