Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Red

"What would he think?"
"Will he ever know who gave him this?"
"Should I add a little clue?"
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"What if someone else gets to it first?"
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"God, I'm such a mess."

*Sleeps again*
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02:13AM
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*Gets up. Under the covers, the torch is back ON.*
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*Writing*
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"Hope you do get this someday."
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*Stops. Takes a deep breath. Continues*
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"I was late for school today. A part of me didn't want to go. Winters are all about curling up with a book, hot chocolate, empty mugs on bed-side table and your kitten sleeping in your lap. Wait. Do you have a kitty? I have. His name is Coffee. And he knows a lot about everything I am going to put here. I talk, he purrs. He purrs I listen.

I was walking up the road, having decided to chuck school and head somewhere else instead. A random place, have tea at one of those tiny shops near Zumaha crossing, talk to that little girl who sells flowers in front of the tree house, sit by that huge rock in the Sirena Valley and write something. Maybe sing a song or two with the eastern winds trying out new hairstyles on me, kissing my cheeks, teasing me, and pleasing me. Cafuné is the word. I read it somewhere. I crossed the Darling woods on my own for the first time. I wonder why momma never lets me go out on this trek. How I wish life had a background score. I would have played my favorite song right about... Here.

Somewhere in between the intoxicating blues of the sky and lush greens of the leaves, I saw red. Not the heart red. The bright red. The one that strikes you like lightning at one go and while you are still recovering, it slowly makes you fall in for more. Take the cherry red and crimson together. That red. I stood there for a long time before I realized I was staring at a muffler.

Now before you tag me a shopaholic, fold this piece of paper and wonder why you got reading this in first place, I must add as my eyes wandered up, that red lost its sheen. The world stopped spinning and I am pretty sure my neurons did somersaults for quite a sometime and then I realized I was gazing. I was drowning. I was...*sigh* wordlessly, breathlessly looking in the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. The eyes that weren't looking into mine. He was reading.

THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA by Ernest Hemingway

*mind-notes begin- Read this book*

I was carrying BLINK by Malcolm Gladwell.

I looked up again. He was reading. And I was melting. I could have fallen to my knees but it would have gotten misinterpreted as the proposal pose. I could have flown away if I could. The look was serene. Surprisingly, now the book no where seen. He was looking at me.

"Hey"

*Looks around. No one.*
*Looks behind herself. No one. Again.*

*Talks in a gesture because if at all voice comes out, it would probably be a squeal.*

"Me?" (Points herself)

"Ya. Good book?"

*And he gets up*
*And he is walking towards me*
*And I am... not dying.* [self hi-five]

"Ya pretty nice. Yours?"
"Good too. I haven't seen you around. New here?"
"Nay. Born here. Exploring has just begun."

*He SMILED*

for image source, click here.

You. The guy I've met just once and if you finally got this, then twice. I won't be coming back tomorrow because if I do, I won't be able to get back to where I belong for now. I don't know your name. It's amazing to have traversed a whole lifetime talking to you yet not knowing what you are called as. And if you are wondering why the sudden change of events, I must tell you the change happened the very second I saw you. And all I can say is I am in love with you. I almost added 'I guess I am' but no need. I am sure. I just wanted to capture this moment. That red muffler. Those grayish-blue eyes. That searching look on your face yet the most welcoming "Hey". That slow and subtle "Umm" you add before answering my endless questions of who, whose and why's. That sudden "Really?" followed by "Me too" moments we had today. Every bit of the man you are today and ever will be. Somewhere in between your blinks and beats, you have taken me in. I am not so sure how all this might occur to you. Crazy, don't it? Yes. For the first time I admit it. I am. This moment, this very second, tears are flowing down my face, Coffee is pausing mid-purr as if to ask "What now?", and I am making a wish, packing it away, sealed with a kiss.

"Dear Stars (if you are listening),
The sparks were amazing. Thank you.
Unite us. In time. Sometime.
Love,
Alice"
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Some years and hence...

Having half-read that one book he really liked, he never really laid hands upon it again. He wondered why. Maybe that girl was a better read. Maybe something about her just made him forget time. She came the next day clad in a similar red muffler as his smiling the smile he was being drawn into. Irrevocably. As he dusted off the same copy today, re-living that day, he remembered how she had taken the books for a second or so, struck a conversation and that's that. An hour she stayed there. Showed him pictures of her kitten. Where would she be today, he wondered.

He was brought back in the present with a sudden jerk of hand and three things randomly falling from inside the pages of the book. Staring at him were her eyes. Big, beautiful eyes. He thought he never missed her until now when tears cascaded down his face. The second picture was of her kitten. And a nicely folded paper. It looked old. Did she slip this in while he was so engrossed talking to her?
And he read.
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That night, he went to bed with a heavy heart. Broken maybe. She loved him. He loved her. She said it. He never answered. Alice. For sure that was just a name she loved. As in 'Alice in Wonderland'. It wasn't hers.

He just got married three days ago and was shifting to a new place. Hence, all the cleaning and moving.

The following morning his wife found the note while he was in bath. She didn't utter a word about it to him. He went off to work, quietly. No breakfast. Just a Goodbye kiss.
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When he came back, he called out for her "Celia"...

*no answer*

He went back to his room. His copy of 'THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA' lay open on his bed. The pictures and the note very much there. As he was about to call out to Celia again, his eyes rested upon the red muffler on which lay a note. Beautiful cursive.

"Dear Stars (I know you listen),
The sparks were amazing. They still are. Thank you.
For uniting us. In time. Forever.
Love,
Alice

P.S. Celia is an anagram for Alice."

And life just began again…

© 2013 Neha Choudhry

for image source, click here.

2 comments:

Rajat Arora said...

Now I understand why your writing is so beautiful. It has layers... like an onion.

Reading your text once is like peeling off the topmost layer - you see something new beneath it, new and shiny. Read it again, and another layer is peeled off, and you see something newer and shinier! God you're so good.

PS: I too have a red muffler (two, actually!)

Neha Choudhry said...

That's by far the nicest one I've ever got... *smiles all the way*

P.S. lend me one. I have a orange one and two multi-colored ones.

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