Beyond-IV

[[I have been trying to write this for many days now. I had actually intended the last part to be the concluding one, but words deserted me. I don't know how this ends.
Or, even if I know, I do not want to write that ending. Fiction is not life; life is not perfect. And telling stories some times take away more from you than you'd negotiated. I write here two versions of reality my imagination. Excuse the fallacies of writing and the inadequacy of answers, and take your pick.

Concluding part. Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here]]

Version 1

"...I don't even know if you remember or not that today, the 10th of May, represents the day I gave you my heart, my trust and my life all those years ago. I don't even know if I represent anything to you other than a chapter of the past. But somehow, even after all these months, my heart doesn't believe my head. The same heart you shattered mercilessly that day at the airport. The idea of you not loving me hurts me more than your admission of what you did behind my back. Somehow, something in me believes there was something in your eyes and your silence even that day. Maybe I've gone crazy. My anger and my sense of betrayal have both subsided. Both love and the agony of love have finally deserted me, but peace eludes me. Even today I cannot reconcile to the fact that I didn't know the girl I loved at all, and that one day you just stopped caring. I do not even envy the object of your affections any more, but it hurts me to realize that you'd have to have changed entirely as a person to be what my mind tells me you are now.

I have been thinking of talking to you once for a long time, but I feared I'd break down in front of you because at that stage I was afraid I wanted you back. But today I need to get past this. And that's why I ask for a small favor from you, for the sake of better times.

I want to believe you did what you did for your happiness, and you are better off for it, and then I will be able to forgive you and move on beyond.
If you do not wish to see me or speak to me, just hand over this envelope back to Shikha . I'd understand.
Good luck..."

I read the words several times. My mind was numb and my eyes were red, but the rest of the body was bursting with pain. I had no idea what to do. Jumping off the roof seemed like a smart idea. I felt small and I felt hopeful at the same time. What would I tell him? What did he want to hear? He clearly did not love me any more - was I supposed to give him the peace he needed to move on. Should I just apologize for my mistake and let him decide.
I soon realized I wasn't and couldn't think straight. It was just the kind of times when I needed him, to be able to run into his arms, where he'd make me feel secure, then scold me and cajole me into doing what was right.
I had to let go of the tussle inside me. I got up, opened the door and walked barefoot to Shikha's place, letter in hand.
I knew he would be waiting there.

********************************************************************************************

Version 2

"...aren't you surprised that I still celebrate the day we first got together. Despite how it ended, it was the best thing that happened to me, and that is why every year I'd striven to make it special. But I guess what we had was never special enough for you. You ruined my dreams with a cold betrayal. You changed, without warning.
Before I left for London, I sensed that you were unhappy with the distance and all I could think of were ways to make you happy. That is why I had asked for a permanent transfer to Mumbai and I'd planned to ask you to marry me as soon as I landed back in India, back in your arms. But for once, you beat me with your plans. Your arms hadn't waited for me. I was so wrong...I was not the one you ever needed to be happy. My broken heart felt heavier than the ring in my pocket. But most of all, the coldness of your eyes when I asked you in desperation if you loved me even a little bit - that still sends shivers down my spine.

I was a simple guy. I loved you with everything I had. I tried my best to make you happy. But it wasn't enough. You couldn't be mine. Still, you could have just told me and walked away sooner instead of breaking my trust. Why did you have to ruin my belief in life? You'd never be able to build your castle of joy over the grave of my hope.

I myself do not believe the kind of things I did just to get over you. I drank myself silly, I quit my job and I spent nights wasted at friends' places just to stop feeling the pain. I hooked up with random girls just to see how it felt to cheat on you. But satisfaction eluded me even in revenge. Thankfully, I eventually realized that life was not worth wasting over one bad memory. You never deserved me.
And now, I actually forgive you for what you did. You don't deserve my hatred either, any more.

Between you and me, I have been the one planning every anniversary for us. This year too, I have a plan. I'm leaving India today permanently to start a new life that is not haunted by your betrayal. I'm leaving for you the ring - the burden is not mine to bear anymore. Consider it my last anniversary gift...."

I picked up the envelope - there actually was a ring inside. Shiny, slightly bruised at the edges, but still, almost smiling, with my name engraved on it. I wore it and felt a strange happiness, a strange relief. The tears dried up and the pain vanished.
I felt I could now die.

Beyond-III

[Continued from here] [Part 1 here]

The doorbell rang. I decided to stop moping and open the door. It had been hours already; I needed to fix dinner and get some work done. As long as I wouldn't die, I need to survive. That was the only thought driving me for the last few months. For several weeks after that fateful day at the airport, the silence and the guilt had consumed me. I lost him, my job, most of my friends and my own self-respect. But as long as the guilt wasn't killing me, it wasn't paying my rent either. Gradually I decided to move on, get a new job and occupy myself. To the extent that today I didn't even remember what day it was.

The doorbell rang again. It was Shikha, who lived next door. Once, she was a great friend.to both him and me. But she never looked me in the eye again once she got to know why I broke up. She told me she wasn't judging me, but was pained for him enough not to be my friend.
She stood at the door with a few envelopes in hand. The postman had wrongly delivered the mail again. I took them and she left, without saying a word.

I put on the lights and settled on the bed to add up the bills for the month. That's when I saw the white envelope marking my name and address in his handwriting. Written letter? From him? My heart skipped a beat. I could not decide whether to open it or not. My hands were shivering and tears welled up in my eyes. After several minutes of numbing anguish I decided to open it. I wasn't breathing. It looked like a letter. The only thing I could think of was why a letter. Why not a phone call or an email or...

"Happy anniversary...." I started to read.


[To be continued]

Beyond-II

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I thought I was in love.
Once upon a time, a bit before that, I was really in love. At that time, it was the best thing to have happened to me. Probably still is. Point is, once upon a time, not so long ago, my life had revolved around one precious relationship for more than seven years.

Like many other people. And like many of those people, I intrinsically believed that was it. It was full of love, care and deep understanding for the most part. Except that time, distance and that funny thing called too-much-comfort had probably taken a toll on it.

Aarghh...why am I trying to find an excuse. Lying to the mirror doesn't tint your reflection. Fact is, he loved me a lot and he loved me the same all those years, and probably would have for the rest of my life. But I wanted more. It now sounds irresponsibly callous, but it wouldn't be too off the mark to say I was probably bored, and life seemed to offer so much freshness. The day I stopped taking his calls and pretending I was too busy, I didn't feel a thing. Maybe I was dead already by then. And I was indulging myself in what felt like righteous liberating choices.

He had come here to surprise me on May 10th last year. To celebrate our seventh year of being together. I was happy and touched. The past few months of distance had almost vanished. I could have been rescued!
We spent two wonderful days together. And then flew to London for the next three months.

The day he came back from London, I went to see him at the airport. And then, when I saw that immense love in his eyes, I just couldn't stand it any longer. I felt small - yes, maybe even then I had a soul. I told him I had cheated on him behind his back with this guy who lived in the same building as me, but had no more courage to say anything more. I couldn't even answer when he asked if I loved him. I had frozen. The pain of his eyes at that moment stings my insides even day

He walked away.

When I finally realized what I had done, and how little everything in the world without him meant to me, I collapsed.

I tried calling him once, and he disconnected. I haven't been able to try again. People tell me move on, look beyond. I wonder, to where.

How could someone be so dead that they stay alive knowing the evil that lives inside them.

[To be continued]

Beyond - I

May 10th.

I hadn't realized it in the rush that defines every morning for me- in fact, not till 11 am in office when I needed to schedule a meeting did I realize what date it was. And then it was in the calender, staring at me. May 10th it was. Eight years today. And I'd actually forgotten the date.
Life changes so much, so soon.

But once it was back in my mind, there was no getting away from it. The sharp pain returned, almost as if someone had removed the insulation that strangled its intensity so that one could always feel it there in the background but was practically numbed to it. I tried to work, but after another hour, gave up. The images wont quit flashing, tears threatened to well up, and my body felt weak. I tried to eat some lunch, but ended up running to the restroom to puke. There, in the restroom luckily empty at that hour, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. It looked pale, it looked guilty, it almost did not look my own. And then I started to cry.

Before the end of the hour, I'd managed to somehow explain sudden onset of illness and sneak out of office. But how was I to know where I needed to go at that hour, in that time. I felt the world was going to come crashing down - or I was going to faint and fall, one of those. I called a taxi and asked him to take me home.
25 mins later I walked in, drew all curtains till it was pitch dark, and collapsed on the bed. At some level, I couldn't believe just the memory of a date can do this to me- bring me back to the same darkness I found myself in for months altogether not so long ago.

But then again, it wasn't just any date. May 10th meant to me a world that was once all I knew. I tried to put myself to sleep.

(To be continued)

I think I may like to belong to the middle zone...

..or maybe not, but I'm certainly bored of the orange zone :P

Unhappy, here's why

Somebody recently had pointed out that this blog has predominantly negative or neutral posts. Part of the reason is that of late I only write a post when in a certain mood. Now, after writing more of those crappy ones, I figure why I've been unhappy.
I've nothing of those three, if you count out one crappy job.

Low

It's a bad night
- one of those.
I try a deep breath
through the nose
so it relieves the ache
living in my chest
If only for a moment
I get some rest.
I feel alone
and worthless
angry at the world
stupid, aimless.
Just like the stupid rhyme
of these lines
I feel crappy and shredded
by Naxal landmines.
(see what I mean
I dont even have words
the motivation is dead
but phoenixes are stupid undying birds)

Love in the time of dictionary.com

I searched for love
In a dictionary
It told me what I was looking for
Was tender affection and care
I filed a tender
To do something worthwhile
Wrote a cheque to CARE
Then cheated with the spelling
And caught an infection
By some inspired rain playing
I felt happy for a moment
Wondered if that was love
In my feverish rumble
Then went off to sleep
Hoping that love would find me
Or else
I'd sue the dictionary.

Jealous

Two girls walked hand in hand by the side of the road. Neither seemed in any hurry. They were talking incessantly - of course, what else do you expect - while enjoying their icecream. I felt a twinge of jealousy, and dunno why, began to follow them, keeping myself slow and as inconspicuous as possible. The evening breeze was pleasant, the hour largely unhurried, and I wanted to hear what they talked about. I got within earshot, and kept the pace, amused at first at their animated reactions to what seemed like distant minor, almost irrelevant, issues.

But they seemed happy - rather despite the whining, they seemed content, at peace. They switched topics fairly quickly and randomly, and I struggled to follow the full import. Then it struck me, there isn't always a point to what and why you're saying.

I felt another twinge of jealousy, this time at their ability to stay at peace without searching for meaning in everything. They didn't pound every moment to death with an intellectual curiosity absolutely pointless and self-defeating in the first place anyway. At that point, something in my rebutted with a snide remark on how petty, irrelevant and inconsequential their talks were.

I halted.

As I watched them past away, the jealousy returned as pain. I was at least as inconsequential and had had nobody to talk to as carefreely.
And I was walking alone.

Over rated

That's what being nice is.

Being humble, polite, considerate, sensitive, liberal, respectful. Not saying things you feel in the heat of the moment because they are mean, exaggerated and not fully true.

All of it, is simply over-rated.

Being who you should be, is over rated.

SO mad at myself.

UPDATE: Comments are back. Still mad at google.