Nothing has changed....Yet everything has!!

10.40 pm. There you stroll into my place to collect your stuff, I invite you in graciously. This is the last goodbye I am ever going to waste, I almost order myself. You ask me if I am okay and I lie convincingly. The awkward hug, a peck on the cheek. No tears, not in front of you at least. You wonder if I have any plans for tonight. I don’t. Dinner? Yes, you wait patiently as I get ready.

You take me to your favorite restaurant again and I pretend to enjoy the mushy salad yet again. We avoid eye contact when our song begins to play. Later, over dessert, I look over at your perfect face, you seem faded. My hands have forgotten how your skin feels. I notice you have missed a couple of spots while shaving. You smile. And cause an intense ache in my heart. I smile back, pleasantly surprised that it has the same effect on you.

Let’s not talk about how you broke my heart, how I smashed your Blackberry into the wall, about all the passion that wilted away, the way you stormed out, the way I slammed the door, all the words that were thrown at each other, vexed looks, irate gestures, petulant behavior, vicious words, heart wrenching truths, streams of tears. Hurtful.

As you take out your credit card to pay the bill, I notice you haven’t taken my picture out of your wallet. Neither have I. We talk, but avoid the questions we really want to ask. You talk about your mother. I crib about my work. We both listen politely.

Driving along the shore, I request you to stop. It’s a beautiful night. May we? You oblige. I ask you to take your shoes off and sit in the sand. You are kind and for once, do not complain about it. I dig my feet deep into the wet sand. You frown disapprovingly but only when my head is turned away. We share the headphones, like we always did. And it would be safe to stick to Rahman.

I reminisce about the fresh love, the lost love, shy smiles, holding hands, biting into the same bar of chocolate, sharing an ice-cream. You smile your disarming smile, hide my hand in yours and promise me that nothing has changed. I shake my head disappointingly. You remind me of the reasons. You use some of my words. I smile meekly. You place your arm over my shoulder, our heads touching in collective dismay, tears streaming down my cheeks. The moonlight bleeds through the sky, blessing the cursed.

Quietly, we wonder where it all went wrong. You watch me looking at the stars, wistfully, straining my neck a little. You take your jacket off and place it on the sand behind us, for our heads to rest on. I look at you gratefully.

The phone runs out of charge, silence reigns. Ruptured by the deafening waves & sounds of broken hearts. We listen, entranced; to keep the silence at bay. You begin to whistle; I try not to get annoyed. You stop.

I turn my head sideways and catch you looking at me. Just like the old times. For a moment, we both believe the lie we have spun for ourselves. Nothing has changed.

Love Affair with quotes..

Cantankerously sans inspiration

P.S. Read at your own risk.

A slow sliding of a drop from the top of a condensed Pepsi bottle to the bottom of it. One after the other. What a beautiful trail it forms on its way down. In its hurry to reach the bottom, it speeds past others. Cutting through the slow pokes, fusing with the fast paced and sometimes totally ignoring the still ones. Is its mission accomplished when it reaches the wooden table top? Or is this just the beginning of a tedious journey? A journey. Oh help me because I am so very bored.

A solid looking table that could do with some coaster using. The stains on it tell a lot about the kind of treatment the table goes through every day, day after day and also how meticulous the dhaba waiters are. Cigarette ashes are scattered unevenly over the surface, forming interesting looking puddles wherever they are met with the condensed liquid or spilled drinks. Lean over to place your elbows on it at your own risk please. Clumsy regulars who were too busy flirting, making a point, laughing, texting, drowning their misery in the cold drinks on a hot sunny afternoon, to even notice. The glass of lime juice is untouched and looks a little out of place. I wouldn't want to be that glass of Vitamin C and pulp. It garners too much attention and starts off quite a few conversations on the wrong foot. The table top is scratched up from all the rough use. And in some places it is even engraved. That must be flattering. To have individuals taking out the time and effort to mark it with initials, important sounding philosophical messages or just something in crude and angry strokes. The harsh and low lighting doesn't do anything to flatter it. The conversation surrounding the table is mind numbingly uninteresting.

It is getting painfully tiring to force a laugh at appropriate time and to listen to the same stories again and again. The onslaught of smoke on the sensory organs is not helping. How much more time before it would be okay to gather one's belongings and leave? Time is ticking real slowly now. Almost mockingly. A story is being related to the group. A cacophonous voice starts with the annoying details. Details that change with every narration. I choose to concentrate on the condense again. At least that isn't predictable.

I..you..we…here..there..anywhere…

02:52.

Not tonight. I can't recollect how I got here. It's quick when you want time to stand still. To sit back and watch. To cherish what isn't yours. To pause the words and sneak through their subtleties. This isn't the happiest hour of the day, but right now time doesn't matter. I am smiling, to myself, as I revisit the last few conversations. Sifting through random ones and picking out the bits that I want to remember. To never forget.

Tina is giving words to my thoughts. The ones that are yet to form. Those that refuse to unwrap the hidden secrets. It's puzzling when you aren't sure what the other wants. But it is absolutely crazy to not know what you yourself want. She is putting her thoughts into me while coaxing my own out of their hidden spots. And as always she is creating magic with her music. Be my friend. Hold me, wrap me up. I'm needy. Warm me up. And breathe me...

I didn't mean to get lost or revisit the past. I didn't mean to feel relieved to have left it all behind. To have left you behind. Nothing more is expected of us. No pretending. No cracks hidden beneath the beautiful muslin. No audience. A silent look. And then we turn our back to each other and walk away. Slow, deliberate steps. The curtains fall. No claps. No cheers.

There is silence. Clear, flawless, undeterred. And Tina is tearing softly through it. Carefully. Not wanting to disrupt the harmony. But there is silence in her words too. The other kind. The fractured one, the one mutilated beyond repair. Without a trace of sound. Or a spur of the moment. Did I just hear you slur? Blow it all away, don't wait for me to say. But even if you had your way, you would find a way to blow it all away.

Signs of a slight headache creeping in. Slowly. The kind that kills. Silence. It fascinates me. This absence of noise. Or sound. Or movement. It scares me, this silence. And I keep trying to fill it in. If not with words, then with thoughts. The clock is leering.

03:09. Obscene. Make no sense of this, because there isn't any. There rarely is. But you knew that already. You were always the smart one. I wish there were more like you. I wish it would stop ticking. Let's not fight today. I am so dead tired.

I want to be in the park. Will you follow me up the rungs and down the slide? I will walk you through a world of fantasy and we can swap smiles. And then walk towards the sea and stop only when the waves pull us in. But I won't leave your hand because to you I am beautiful and that might keep us afloat. For a while. And if we die, we will die knowing. Knowing all that was unsaid. Because we didn't always need words to communicate.

Tomorrow will be different. Without them around. It hasn't hit yet. It will when I wake up. A new day comes with bitter realizations. Always. This is a first. I can't believe it myself. Did we hug? I don't remember anymore. Maybe we didn't. Maybe we should have. Maybe I don't remember because it doesn't matter. It is after all, inconsequential. Nothing that is forgotten can be of any importance to you and I. You. And I....

03: 24.