Monday, May 20, 2013

Stars

One thing he never asked or answered me is Why;
Why are we what we are today
or Why were we what we were back then.
How did we get here?
I can't even begin to begin.
He took my hand and ran my fingers on the freckles on his nose, around his cheeks and asked, "What about these? Aren't these imperfections?"
With the palm of my hand I closed his eyes and asked him, "What do you see?"
"It's dark with a hint of bright light" was what I got.
"Nothing is perfectly immiscible..." I began. He cut me out with a "Don't go chemistry on me, babe." But I still continued "...you will always find the world in shades, shades of colors you may not even know names of."
"How does that answer me?"
"Had the night sky been a plain boring black it would have robbed us star-gazers of the magic. Your freckles make you beautiful. It's like god-defined patterns whereon I have to plant kisses all night long. Don't be surprised if some night I go on making crazy constellations on you with a glitter pen like those joining-the-dots we used to do in play school and you wake up all sparkling. Our imperfections match us. I love how after a lot of coke we play a burp-oops-sorry and then do it intentionally for the craziness of it, how in midst of crossing a busy street you take my hand and I just go on trailing with you demanding every possible thing that we stroll pass by; be it an ice cream, shoes, jacket or a baby pink colored rosary. You know what I really like about us? It's how even after teenage passed me by a couple of years ago I still get to be your baby. How I get to be hugged mid-street just to say 'Hi' or play 'what color is it?' with gems or drink all your coffee, make a kitty face and get away with it or...

I can go on and on but the truth is no matter how close I get to expressing it, I won't ever be able to tell you how we got here. I'm just glad we got here."

...fifteen minutes later...

"Is this top too body-hugging?"
No response.
He is no where in sight. Obviously would be with that video game again. Urgh.

I feel his hands, slowly finger-walking closing in on my waist, enveloping me from behind.

"Not any close to the kind I am."

I turn around.

And... *stars*.

© 2013 Neha Choudhry


3 comments:

Rajat Arora said...

I'm glad to see you writing regularly again :)
And yes, as always, I love the way you write!

Shrutz said...

This is so good!!! loved it neha!!! :)

Neha Choudhry said...

Thank you, Rajat. It's time you write one too. Been long.

Shruti, thank you sweety!

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