Picture Perfect

We sat on a rock on the riverbank, legs stretched out in the brown water the tiny waves carried to the bank. I stole glances at her every now and then. She played with the water with her button-eyes gleaming with a childlike joy. A few mischievous strands of her hair played on the wind. Small beads of water glistened on her cheeks. A faint content smile on her face just completed the perfect picture for me. A smile so beautiful that something ached near my heart every time I saw it...

She was sitting a foot away from me yet she seemed so far. I wished we weren't just friends. It happened so many times that my feelings reached the tip of my tongue and I restrained them just in time... How could she not see the eyes that were only for her.. The heart that burnt with passion everyday... Being just friends was killing me. How I wish she were mine...

I looked at the river. The sun reflected in its waters that now shone like molten gold. A flock of birds flew with their wings outstretched in the distant skies.

"Hey! Look at this! Almost like your ultimate dream! Oh, if only it were the sea you always imagine!" I said to her, snapping back to the reality, showing her the glittering water.

She looked out in the distant horizon. "I told you about that dream too! Seriously! I tell you everything!" she said, half-surprised, half-bemused.

"Of course you do! You know how much we talk?? I have six thousand messages in my inbox!" I told her, "That are only yours, sent to me. Add my replies to them!"

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, "People would think we are crazy!"

A moment passed in silence, punctuated only by the pleasant sound of water as she rocked her legs absent-mindedly.

"Do you imagine what would happen when finally we would have to stop talking like this?" she asked in a low voice, not looking at me.

I sighed deeply. Of course I had imagined that a million times. At nights when I lay awake in my bed, I always imagined the time when it would be the end of our crazy friendly conversations that continued all the time till one of us fell asleep midway into typing a reply. Someday, she would be a part of someone else's life and then I would be nothing but some silly guy she wouldn't even know loved her. An afterglow...

"Yes." I admitted truthfully, staring at the water at my feet, "You realise, don't you? One day all our crazy conversations will have to stop. One day you will find the guy of your dreams and all."

She did not look up. She spoke in a slightly heavy voice, squirming uncomfortably, "I am never going to marry if that's the case." She folded her arms across her chest like a haughty child.

I gaped at her. She must be kidding. "This is crazy." I told her.

"Yes. But I have an idea. Here's the deal!" she said quickly, not giving me any time to think, with a sudden mischievous expression on her face, "By the time I decide to marry, if I don't find anyone I am comfortable with, we will marry. Is it fine!?"

Whoa! Please don't do this to me, I wanted to tell her. A slightest budding hope in my heart could kill me later. But wasn't this exactly all I wanted? That place in her life that I dreamt of, day and night.

"What happened?" she asked with a faltering smile and a slightly disappointed tone, "What do you think?"

"I will be honoured, my lady!" I smiled at her. 'Honoured! Dudette, do you have any idea how crazy I am about you!', I wanted to say. Her smile returned. She still looked uncomfortable as if she was about to say something but she seemed to have decided against it.

Another moment passed in silence. Our eyes met briefly before she looked at the horizon.

"Hey, but when is the latest you will decide to get married?" I enquired curiously, seriously considering her deal but making it sound casual to her.

She paused for a moment, cleared her throat and replied, "Tomorrow?"

It took me full five seconds to realise what she meant.

"You mean... I.. You... Are you... Are you saying I am the one???" I stuttered, turning to her in disbelief.

"Oh. Finally!! Stupid! You got it!" she said, shaking her head in mock exasperation with her face blushing red.

"I don't believe it! God! And you are the one who asked!" I said breathlessly. My heart did a hundred somersaults and I couldn't feel my legs.

She looked relieved and grinned. Her voice shook a little with emotions when she talked further, "And for your information- watching the sun glowing in the waters at the meeting point of three oceans is not my ultimate dream anymore... It's been you for quite a long time now.."

I was at the loss for words. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, so many confessions to make but that could wait for the time being... We would have a lifetime to do that.

"You know what?" I asked her when I could talk without stuttering.

"What?" she asked with a nod. Her earrings oscillated a little with that tiny jerk. I could have forgotten what I had to say.

"I never had a dream. Till I met you."

That was the happiest day of my life.

Insanity

She laughs uncontrollably and maniacally. The people around her exchange concerned looks with each other. She laughs at them for thinking she has gone insane while deep inside she knows she has just turned more sane than ever.

She knows most of them will not understand her because they belong to the same society she laughs at. Yes, she laughs at the society that tries to confine love in the rusted chains of the ruthless rules they set themselves, just as she has read in one of her favorite books- the rules that define who should be loved and how and how much. She laughs at the society that judges her on the basis of her material wealth and birthplace.

But more than that, she laughs at all those submissive and spineless weaklings who surreptitiously conceal their own inabilities and unwillingness with their fake sincerity to conform to the rules and those who conveniently blame the rules of society to come clean to- ironically, the same society.

She doesn't forget to laugh at herself for thinking the world will be fair to her because she is honest. She laughs at everything she ever hoped for and everything she ever had faith in. She laughs at her own sharp memory that everyone admires. 'Bullshit!' she loudly blurts out, remembering things she had been promised and laughs. The people around her squirm in their seats uncomfortably. That only makes her laugh more.

Then she laughs at anyone who explains her how much they love her. She thinks they belong to the same world that changes its colors faster than a chameleon does. She laughs at them until they cry and then she continues laughing at their tears that seem remotely familiar to her. They fail to move her. To her, tears are the signs of weakness she detests now. She tells them she is unreachable. She wonders if she has lost her tenderness- but what good is the tenderness if it only makes her weak!

She laughs at the people who claim to love her and fail to understand that she is with the very person who loves her the most. She is with herself. She is like the sun. She lightens up everyone's day but approaching her is hazardous. She burns everyone who comes in her vicinity, everyone who wants to touch her heart that she keeps inside the guarding walls now...

She laughs so much that her jaw hurts. She laughs so much that she ends up crying. Still, she is not insane.

Confessions

"Oh here's one more confession!" I said excitedly, "Remember you told me about some guy in your neighborhood you had crush on? I was very sad that day. I felt so jealous of that guy! When you told he played guitar I even considered learning it at one wild moment!"

She burst into laughter, "You were trying to change the topic and I was deliberately pulling you back at it. I knew you were a little jealous. I was having a time of my life." she said winking at me, smiling radiantly.

"You know how much it sucks being friend-zoned!? You wicked girl! You know what, I thought you would never fall for someone like me! Day and night we talked about food, work, families, stories, songs, studies and all the other things in the world but not the very thing we kept secret from each other!" I reminisced. The memories brought smile on our faces.

"The guy was only imaginary, by the way, that guitar guy!" she said with her tongue playing in her cheeks.

"What!" I gawked at her with wide eyes, "You are so mean!"

She laughed even more. Then suddenly she seemed to have remembered something and she smiled slyly.

"What is it!" I asked her, "Don't try to hide anything! It's confession time! Your turn now!"

She blushed deep red and shook her head vigorously, "Noway! It's embarrassing and well... really..." she paused, searching for a word and said, "Icky!"

"Now you have to tell me! Please please please!!!" I insisted curiously.

"Promise me you will never tell this to anyone." she asked me with pleading eyes.
I rolled my eyes and agreed.

She heaved a deep sigh and suppressing her smile, she said, "Remember we used to go to the tapri for the evening tea?? Our entire group?"

"What about it?" I asked her impatiently.

"I used to love that time. I wasn't really a fan of tapri chai. I just got to steal glances at you from above the tea cups. I used to never skip that teatime no matter how much work I had." she pursed her lips, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

"What's so embarrassing in this! That was the reason I never skipped tea too!" I said.

"Ummm... You know..." she cleared her throat and nibbling at her knuckles to suppress a fit of smiles, she said, "Actually one day when I finished my tea, I found a very ugly dead insect lying at the bottom of the cup..." she shivered a little and continued, "I did not scream nor did I tell anyone fearing we might stop coming to the tapri altogether. I did not even say anything to the chaiwala. I quickly threw the rest of tea along with that insect away when no-one was looking at me. And we continued to go there. That's why I suggested everyone had tea in paper-cups instead of glass cups!!"

She looked at my face tentatively, waiting for my expression.

I stared at her for a moment and roared with laughter.

"Oh my god! Yuck!!!!!" I stopped laughing and imagining the whole scene, burst into a fresh fit of laughter.

"I knew you would laugh! I shouldn't have told you in the first place." she snapped at me flaring her nostrils in mock anger, pushing me away.

I controlled my fit of laughter, "You know how crazy you are?"

She fidgeted with her fingers sheepishly. When she looked up at me, her button-eyes were shining with tears. Sniffing and rubbing her nose with the back of her palm, she shrugged.

I pulled her closer to me and pushed back a strand of her hair that tickled my cheek. I could feel her breath quickening. She could even have heard my heart beating and then we kissed, her fingers pulling gently at my hair and mine touching her cheeks... I traced my finger softly on her neck and pulling back a little, I whispered in her ear, "There's an insect right here, you want to eat it?"

She pinched my arm and we giggled.

The Road Not Taken

That innocent gleam in her button-eyes... The demure, loving words she whispered softly in my ears... Her habit of fidgeting with her fingers at awkward moments... The mischievous smile with which she beamed at me whenever our eyes met... Her tears that made even the sadness look painfully beautiful... That absent-minded goodbye-wave she did with an illogical fear evident on her face... The way she coiled around my arms like I was her superhero... The tenderness of her touch... The softness of her skin... The blush on her cheeks that rendered her speechless at our rare rendezvous. The taste of the food she secretly cooked for me and fed me with her hands... The way she wiped my sweat off my forehead when we walked together in the sun...

She must have been some beautiful early morning dream. Reality can never be that perfect.

I stood at the fork my path had split at.

She stood with her hand extended at me on one of the roads. She smiled with her eyes full of expectations and longing. My only dream… That beautiful early morning dream… Only a few feet away… The road she had taken was rough, narrow and full of sharp stones and shriveled grass. When our eyes met, I averted mine from her. Something twisted inside my heart… The perpetual battle of my thoughts grew more gruesome than ever.

I took the other road.

She scorns me for taking a simpler road. Little does she know that having choices isn't always an advantage. Little does she know that any road without her hand in mine could never be simple for me. Little does she know why Robert Frost’s poem is titled ‘The Road Not Taken’ instead of ‘The Road Less Traveled’… Little does she know about regrets…

"I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

- Robert Frost

Good Riddance

I did not love her anymore. Her voice wasn't like a sweet music to my ears anymore. Instead it annoyed me. Her persistent, caring phone calls that used to fill my heart with warmth were only a source of disturbance to me now. When she told how much she missed me, she only got on my nerves.

'Stop your nonsense! I do not love you anymore!' I wanted to shout at her. I wanted to carve those words on her heart so that she would stop telling she loved me. I wanted the truth to sink in her brain, I wanted her to stop dreaming of me.

One day I told her so. Her reactions weren't unexpected. She cried. She sobbed. She put up a whole big melodrama whining how I had changed. She begged me to stay. She told me she could do anything for me, she could be anyone I want her to be. That only disgusted me more, I pitied her. She held on to my hand like a drowning person would hold on to a floating plank, I only freed myself from her desperate grip. She screamed dramatically, calling me cold, callous and cruel. With teary eyes, she reminded me of all the things I ever said to her, she even sang our favourite song (Need You Now: Lady Antebellum; such a drama queen I tell you!) in a shaking voice, lyrics all incomprehensible to me because of her punctuating sobs. I told her I could not take her emotional brunt anymore. I apologized and shrugged admitting to her that I was stupid when I promised her things. And really, I was. I was blinded by her love. She was a crazy, childish woman and she lived in a dream world. She had idealistic ideas about love. We were immature. Stupid. Blind. Deaf. Overconfident. I did not belong there in her dream world. I had to change. I did. I had different aspirations now and she did not fit anywhere. She wasn't perfect anymore. Oh- once she was; but hey! Life is so dynamic. I am in an entirely different world now. Fast paced, huge, competitive, rich, polished, practical and better. She had stayed back, stuck to her small world where I had left her off. I don't say it was her mistake. It wasn't my mistake either. No. I won't take that blame.

She fell silent one day and protested no more. I did not even say bye. I was done with her melodrama already, so many times. I had found inner peace.

'Please hug me just once before you decide we should part ways.' she had said beseechingly at one point.

'Why?' I had asked her dryly, annoyed at her mawkishly sentimental dialogues.

'Just one last attempt, you might just change your mind. Maybe you will remember what we have been fighting for...' she had whispered sadly.

I never even called her.

I avoid all messy things. They ruin my well-cut expensive suits.

Lost

She glanced around like a timid rabbit, her eyes searching for something she couldn't spot. Her lips trembled a little as the tears tried to break free. With a lost look, she moved a few paces to and fro in quite a confused state.

A lady walking on the sidewalk tapped on her shoulder and asked sympathetically, "Any problem? Are you lost?"

She just nodded. She must really have looked stupid. The grown ups don't get lost on the way.

"Where do you want to go?" the lady asked gently.

"On." she said in a voice devoid of a tone and stared helplessly into her eyes.

With one alarming look at her, the lady hurried away from her as fast as possible.

Lullaby

She looked really tired these days. She had dark circles around her eyes and her usually sparkling eyes that now looked sunken deep in their sockets seemed to have lost the shine in them. Her cheekbones were more prominent than ever. I was really worried for her. Many times I did try to break the ice to ask her what she was upto. "It's work, Dad. I have been slogging." was all she said and always left as though she was in hurry.

Several times I saw her staring out of the window, completely lost with unfocused eyes. She had buried herself in her books and computer these days. Her daily cheery phone conversations were long gone. My mind was full of ominous speculations.

I know how children these days hate we-need-to-talk situations, but I had to ask her. On one of the moments when she was buried in her work, I asked her almost awkwardly, "Is everything okay?"

"Hm." she replied in a curt manner, without looking up from her laptop.

I was not going to beat around the bush anymore. "You don't seem busy in chats or calls these days...? What's up with you both?"

It seemed like she knew this question was imminent. She stopped her work and looked up at me. She quickly looked away though; and with a strange forced smile and an extremely grave voice quite unlike her, she said, "We ended it. It's finished."

I had probably guessed it already but her confirmation still did shake my heart.

"He was so sure when he talked to me! And you were confident too! What happened exactly?" I enquired, trying to keep the shock out of my voice but failing miserably at it.

For a moment I thought she would burst into tears. But she suddenly seemed busy with something in a book lying in front of her.

"Nothing, Dad. I don't know. It wasn't working out." she replied in a small voice trying hard to sound casual. The corners of her mouth twitched a little and her lower lip trembled almost unnoticeably.

Trying to act normal and failing pathetically at it was something she got from me.

"Now?" I asked her.

She shrugged and said, "Nothing anymore. Finished."

I really wished she stopped trying to look normal.

I don't understand how this generation thinks. It only seemed like yesterday when, in a pin-drop awkward silence she told me, "I want to marry him, Dad!"

I wondered whether there was anything more insecure and scary for a father than seeing his daughter in love with a guy. How could she do that! She was so young, I thought. I remembered the time when she was so small I could hold her in my palms, almost scared I would drop her. When had she grown up so much! To fall in love, to choose a guy for herself!

I felt angry and jealous of that guy. 'Princess' he called her; I overheard her once telling her mother shyly. After all the glow on her face and her reddened cheeks whenever she talked about him was the proof she totally admired him.

"What if I don't give my consent?" I asked her in a strict tone I had never used before.

"I would marry him anyway." she replied in a low but defiant voice.

She had made up her mind and I knew she had really grown up, quite stealthily, without telling me, so suddenly.

I had always set her free to make her own decisions or mistakes.
"You are an adult now. You both are. Hope you have thought well." was all I told her.
I caught her smiling clandestinely with her eyes fixed down, toes playing with something on the floor.

And now she sat in front me, not meeting my eyes yet again but this time that playful sly smile was wiped off. I felt the surge of anger for whatever that had robbed her off her sunny and childlike self.

I remembered the days when she was a kid. She was an obedient child. I would teach her Mathematics and solve a sum as many times as she asked me to, till she grasped the method, till that smile of satisfaction flowered on her eager face. We would study all night together, me sharpening her pencils and filling ink in her pens, forcing her to finish the entire glass of milk that she hated doing... Making perfect half-fried eggs she loved, till she stopped complaining about the yolk being too runny... Sometimes we would play cards together and I would let her win just to watch her face light up with triumphant smirk... When she was a kid, she asked me to tell her bedtime stories. She wouldn't sleep till I told her at least five per night.

Every night she would request, "That song, Dad please!"

I would sing that folk-song I had listened from the Krishna temple at my village where I grew up. I would be all sleepy, droopy-eyed and the tough child as she was, she would make me explain the meaning of each verse, even though she had already heard it from me so many times.

"Please Dad," she would croon with her beady eyes pleading and her tiny arm around my neck and I wouldn't feel tired anymore.

I wish I could tell her that she will always be my princess no matter what. I wish I could sing her a lullaby now. These days when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can see the lights in her room still on. I wish I could sing her favourite song to her. I wish I could sing her to sleep.