The night that wasn’t about life’s blues, but our crazy moves & cheap booze

So I went to this same old place in Malaviya Nagar where you were all flattered by my dance moves for the very first time.

Remember that shady lounge that you took me to, on the day I was insistent that we go some place new?

The very moment I entered the community centre, I was hit by flashbacks – one after another, and the other.

And the most prominent memory of course was your jaw-drop moment – when you were completely swayed by this small town girl you had known for years.

That one moment I won’t forget even if I never go back to that place again.

The fond memory of you completely in awe of my dance moves, and your honest confession that followed your unforgettable expressions.

The moment you skirted your hand around my waist and whispered in my ear that you could not match up to my level. That I was too good a dancing partner to go out on a date with.

That if it were up to you and you had a glue, you would have tied me with you just to protect me from all the staring eyes inside that dark room.

How can I ever forget that night when I was actually doing what we keep telling ourselves all our lives – live in the moment.

That night when we could have danced till we dropped, but were rather asked to leave because the management had to close the bar.

The night that was not about the life’s blues, but our crazy moves and the cheap booze.

The night that was about incredible madness, stolen kisses, super shady pictures and unusual hand holding.

The night that was so much more than I could ever write about.

That night which still echoes of the Love that once was.

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4 years since you left…

First came shock. Then denial. And then grief followed on for about two-and-a-half years, only to give way to healing.

Healing which came with acceptance.

Acceptance of my life’s reality.

Reality that you are now long gone and sooner or later, I will have to live with it.

As the 25th of December is about to end, there are a few things I would like to remind myself.

Even though it’s been 1,460 days without you by my side, I am doing just fine.

I gifted myself 4 parting gifts today in the garb of Christmas presents.

Did I mention that I even bought an overpriced pair of accessories from BG’s in the memory of our once beautiful relationship. I’m sure you remember the first ever piece of jewellery you gifted me was from the BG’s.

How happy I was on receiving that present back then. May be I was trying to find that happiness again.

May be I was desperately looking for ways to feel closer to you once again.

Talking of feeling closer to each other…

Can you relate why I chose this donut to mark today’s date?

Someday, when you are ready to let go of your inhibitions, do tell me coz I’d still be eager to listen.

Talking of listening.

Did I tell you that..

I no longer listen to “another day without your smile” and still manage to get some sleep.

All the craft work I made for you on your last birthday is still lying unattended inside the closet that I never open.

Of late, I have come to realize that coughing my lungs out due to dust from past is not that good an idea after all. So I let the latch of the closet catch the rust instead and I tell myself that I will never have to open it.

You know, I have given myself enough time to heal, and that time alone did reveal that my love for you was (unfortunately) greater than my hatred.

Coz there’s no denying the fact that I did kill you a thousand times in my head, but telling you the other day that I won’t forgive you is something that I regret.

Or at least I feel so, today.

My therapist thinks that I have made some progress. But I know this for a fact that telling you that I still miss you will only be an understatement.

This year, just Let Me Go …

Let me go.

Because even though you left me 4 years back, the memory of you still lives inside of me.

Let me go.

Because our egos sit tight, while our love doesn’t.

Let me go.

Because my eyes are tired of staring into Oblivion. I have waited for you for hours, days, months and years and yet you never returned.

Let me go.

Because the promise of a forever was shamelessly broken 4 years back and ever since then, I have been trying to learn how to trust people, from scratch.

Let me go.

Because there are still things that I haven’t laughed at.

Let me go.

Because there still are emotions that I haven’t felt.

Let me go.

Because I want to think about the beautiful sunsets, and not drowning to the bottom of the ocean each time I go to a beach.

Let me go.

Because there are days when I forget to eat and then there are some when I forget to sleep. You see, during those forgetful moments, the very thought of you keeps me busy.

Let me go.

Because I want the thought of breathtaking views to replace the thoughts of jumping from the rooftop each time my cab crosses a high rise building.

Let me go.

Because the weight of the past is becoming a little too much for me to carry along, and am afraid that you won’t come running to save me if I get buried under the weight of our mistakes.

Let me go.

Because you are no longer there to protect me, so I guess I will have to wear my own cape.

Let me go.

Because I have been vulnerable and exposed for far too long, and am not so sure when my insides would start crumbling down.

Let me go.

Because a part of me died when you walked away and it still needs to learn how to live again.

Let me go.

Because I want to experience the joy of togetherness, instead of turning my head away from the happy faces during weddings.

Let me go.

Because when I get an hour or two for myself after 11 hours of work, all I ever think about is where did I go so wrong!

Let me go.

Because my life shouldn’t just be about writing these letters to you in vain.

Let me go.

Because I have tried it all, only to learn that nothing ever mattered to you – the countless tears or the persistent heartache.

Let me go.

Because I can no longer live with shadows from the past circling my present. History repeats itself, sure. You should ask those who hallucinate.

Let me go.

Because you are never there when I need someone to hold my hand.

Let me go.

Because I haven’t smiled in a long, long time and I need to find a reason to do that.

Let me go.

Because I, like everyone else, want to sing the Christmas carols once and experience the joy of Thanksgiving for real. And yet each year around this time, what I do instead is avoid any human contact as the very memory of you holding my hand for the last time creeps up in my head, only to eventually consume my entire existence.

That picture we clicked inside McDonald’s on the cold morning of 24th December 2014 keeps reminding me of all those dreadful moments that followed.

Your hand slipping from mine as you bade your last goodbyes. The naive me, who was ignorant to what was really happening.

The way you subtly ended our three years of relationship, and the perfect metaphor in that one moment that would make the best of poets cringe.

4 years back in time.

We are at the unusually crowded Anand Vihar ISBT around 9:30 in the morning.

I can’t hug you as it’s a public space, and everyone is around.

So I kiss the back of your palm, and I can already feel your hand slipping from mine.

There’s an unusual calm on your face today, even though all we have been doing is fighting with each other, in the last so many days.

You wish me a safe journey before getting down from the bus that hasn’t started moving yet, and a part of me already knows that it’s going to be a long, long journey ahead.

Straddling between the calm and chaos, I try to catch a glimpse of you, and so I peep outside the window.

I see you walking away from me even though my bus hasn’t started moving.

And just in a matter of seconds, you disappeared, never to come back.

Back to the present day.

Here I am, 4 years hence, still contemplating what difference would it have made had I never left this city in the first place.

Because never on Earth could I have imagined that my whole life was going to change from that day.

Because each year I write to you, hoping that some day, it won’t go in vain.

Happy Birthday, A.

We loved, we despised;

We laughed, we cried;

We broke each other,

and never apologised.

So here’s wishing happy birthday to the one who changed my life in just a matter of 9 months.

How fast this time has passed.

Last year around the same time, we were dealing with our own set of problems like how to combat the awkwardness we felt in each other’s presence and how to kill those butterflies in stomach.

How we were still learning ways to avoid embracing each other for long during those bear hugs on our birthdays.

It’s funny how even the repeated anxiety attacks failed to deter me from sending presents your way when it was your birthday.

It’s astonishing how you pretended like it was something that didn’t please you much while you acknowledged that there was no need for me to “go out of my way” to celebrate your special day.

It’s amazing how subtly you revealed that day as to how you once wished that I entered your life before “she” did.

“No one has ever done so much for me. I still don’t know how to react. If only we met each other at a different point in life…” Your message read.

And I can’t deny that those words are etched on my heart even to this day.

I am sure you will never get it. The fact that the day of your arrival on this Earth meant something to me back then. It was THE day. To me, it was like Thanksgiving where I could literally count the endless reasons I was grateful for.

Like your mere presence in my life;

like how your sad jokes and wisdom combined at 3 in the night helped me reflect on the bad choices I made in this lifetime;

Like how your contagious spirit filled with all things positive always compelled me to acknowledge that despite all the scars on my soul, I was still beautiful;

Like how the child inside you always coaxed me into playing the games I would never play otherwise – in dreams and in real life;

Like how your indifference towards happiness and pain alike gave me another goal for life;

Like how your disconnect with the world always made me question the depths of love;

Like how your workplace antics helped me develop the necessary tactics to deal with those morons in office.

And I could go on and on and on…

But then,

All good things must come to an end.

After all, what we shared was no different than the rest.

Towards the end of those 9 months, we had reached our saturation.

The conversations became sour as the pillows turned soggy.

The demons were out, trading on the last shreds of vulnerability.

And in the end, both of us had no clue who was to be blamed for the end of that “terrific friendship”.

A year later, as I sit here contemplating whether or not to send you a birthday message, I know this.

Nothing good has ever come out of a never-acknowledged relationship.

Diwali: Another year of difficult choices, another month of bargain!

The month of Diwali was here again.

Another year of difficult choices.

Another month of bargain.

“Why do you want to go home on Diwali?” My boss asked.

Looking for an appropriate answer to his (stupid) question, I stood there dumbstruck.

“Why do people go home on festivals after all?” I wondered!

May be he is right.

Or may be he doesn’t have a life beyond work!

Whichever the case was, he still gave me a choice, which was not.

“If you are off on Diwali then you will be working on Christmas and the New Year. Are we clear?” He asked.

So now I had to choose between Lord Ram and Jesus.

Why do I even have to do that?
Why does it have to be this way?
Seriously, have I really reached this stage in life where I have to choose which incarnation of God do I want to celebrate with most zeal and fervor?
Is this all happening for real?

And while I was struggling to look for answers to all these questions, my boss clicked his fingers, asking me “what? Where are you lost?”

In a fit of panic and disgust alike, I shrugged and said: “nothing boss! I choose Lord Ram!”

(He burst into laughter as if I had cracked a joke.

I thought aloud: Boss, the joke’s on you!)

Anyway, the bargain was done and the deal was made.

I somehow managed to negotiate a three-day holiday to be with my family on Diwali.

But two months from now, when most of you will be relishing the plum cakes while lighting candles and listening to Carols inside a church, I will most likely be sitting inside my office, whining over this time when I was made to choose between the incarnations of God.

So for now, Happy Diwali y’all.

When Diwali wasn’t about light, but darkness

I still remember the day when mumma had asked me to switch off all the lights that hung on the walls of our house on Diwali.

I couldn’t bring myself to terms with the fact that Diwali, which was supposed to be the festival of lights, had turned so dark for all of us.

Mumma had called Papa, asking him to leave everything aside and immediately come home from work.

Me and my super-excited brother had just returned home after shopping firecrackers.

But moments after we entered the house, I sensed a strange sense of calm prevailing all over.

Too young to anticipate the gloom of the impending doom, I stood there restless.

And the next thing I know – a doctor was inside my bauji’s (grandfather’s) room, giving some bad news to my parents.

I heard him explain how “sorry” he felt for our loss.

“We lost him to cancer” – My grandfather was no more.

Too afraid to go inside his room, I peeped through the door and watched him lay on his bed – motionless.

And by the time my mother stepped outside to tell me that I needed to blow the diyas and switch off the lights that hung outside, I was already hiding behind the refrigerator.

With tears in her eyes and prayers on her lips, she pulled me out and hugged me hard.

Confirming the news of bauji’s demise, she told me what had to be done.

Unable to process all that, I ran towards the staircase, only to find myself in a frozen state moments after.

Too perplexed to move my foot forward, I stood there as a dumb spectator.

The bag full of firecrackers was right in front of my eyes. And all I could see was darkness.

It didn’t matter even if the whole sky was full of colorful lights.

The flame inside our guiding lamp had extinguished, never to be rekinled again.

And all those objects of sparkle had lost their relevance. All that glitter made no sense.

People outside my house were greeting each other, exchanging gifts, and screaming out of happiness.

And all I could hear was the chant of final prayers, accompanied by the wailing cries for help.

And in my heart, I knew – Diwali won’t be the same ever again.

That moment of honesty..

The alarm in my phone goes off. It’s 5:02 in the morning. “I need to wake up but before that isn’t one supposed to sleep?” I ask myself secretly.

Needless to say, it’s the memories of you as usual, doing what they do best. Pushing me into self-loathing mode, with each flashback from the past killing my self-respect.

I have to be in office by 7am and yet I am contemplating not sleeping till the cab comes. The ghosts from a shared past with you are frightening enough as it is. I don’t need these memories playing the bad cop and arresting my peace.

Back in time, you are already down to level 2. All those kisses for no reason have surely worked wonders for you.

A friendly touch here and there is only a testament to the fact that you are trying too hard. And for God Knows what! You had my undivided attention since the day you asked me what I wanted to do on my birthday.

And as we steal glances for the umpteenth time, I can clearly see that desire burning in your eyes. Holding my hand in yours, you coax me into telling you about my past life. And as you saw me timidly trying to change the topic, you looked me right in the eye to tell me that you won’t talk to me if I don’t open up.

For a moment, I felt perhaps that moment of honesty was the only thing that ever mattered.