Ha! I am blogging after a very long time; it gives me a different sense of feeling the moment I sign in to my blog page just like a child who returns home, there is a certain sense of possession accompanied by its religious satisfaction. It is enthralling particularly in this rainy weather to open up my hand-made journal and pen down each word on wet paper that smells like a rose petals clouded with dew drops on it. I begin with sipping some black coffee off my favorite mug, staring at the window watching drizzling water that falls on the glass of my window and listening to the tipper tapper of the rain drops when it touches the glass. Humming one of my favorite tracks "World behind my wall" by Tokio Hotel (if you are a rock music fan, it is a recommended track. I love Bill's voice it charges me up!) Aaarghhh!! this is the glorious part of being a writer where whims and words encircle you and drift you through the time.
My mind is kind of flaming up about this fictional character of an eccentric guy, that's all the romantic weather is bringing in when I do not have a boyfriend and have tons of things to imagine with a pen and a paper in my hand. There are always pluses of being a singlet I believe (Not many people can bug you over the phone when you are in deep thinking :p ). This is the first story that I am attempting to write, I am learning to write short stories.The story is two parts the first part is a narration and second part is a letter which I shall post soon. So here I begin to narrate him from his own voice:
I certainly belong to this romantic masculine genre although I usually get resilient nerd and lock up the desires and dreams to some unwanted corner. It is usually the awkward and silent conversations that hurled away most people I met making them think that I am some weirdo and unconventional. Being a no-nonsense kind of a person whose inclined towards very few people and loves few unconditionally, I was yet drooled out to be a socially awkward persona. I was understated.
Especially in her eyes, I wish she could have known what the words lying in my silence scream. I wish she could have known that unlike her I couldn't blabber & chatter about anything ranging from the dress of her mate to the expression of my feelings in romantic weather. Hell yes that was being eccentric is like, following her facebook profile, remembering her numbers that existed 4 years back, remembering her maruti fronti's number on which she first learned to drive, the color of a small painted flower on her dress which she wore on the first day of her uni, the rounded curve below her lips, saving each and every google conversation of hers even if it were a formal conversation and re-reading it millions of times although it meant nothing.
She was the only female friend that I possessed it is funny that most women who used to almost die to sit near by me in my early uni days eventually shifted on to the back sides with my friends, I never understood how to talk to those feminine kinds. I couldn't talk to them like most of my friends who threw humour by sharing experiences and jokes, taking them on rides and blah blah. I never attempted to initiate conversations with women neither did I care, my usual responses to their initiated conversations were a straight stare into her eyes, a mere smile and hmmms which at times was accompanied by 'alright'. The stare usually made them uncomfortable with stupid expressions on their faces, which to me meant was being direct and listening to them.
I was considered as one of the most hottest and desired guys in the class that's what she had told me once. Also, that most of her women friends considered me as self-obsessed and full of unwanted attitude. One another unusual habit i bore was i had my ear plugs on with my ipod tuned into the punk music blasting at its highest intensity which made all the conversations and listening inaudible and kept me more engaged to my lovable piece of technology. I know most of them defied it but the music defined me. I loved it. Even she loved every inch of it, to certain extent she was eccentric too. The only thing that was uncommon was her words and eyes talked, for me my silence and eyes talked. We were pretty much alike yet far apart. I knew she liked me but I couldn't forever stand on to her side I believed she deserved a better person than me that is what afflicted her most times and my unconditional love of all towards her had a faith to see her happy even if it meant to take the pains of loosing her.
It was last day of uni four years had passed between us but nothing had moved she entered the class i could see her from that glass partition her hair open and her perfect lips had a beautiful smile which always gave me the solitude that I longed. From the corner of her dark brown eyes she was staring at me hoping that I would turn up to her atleast on the last day to say what I could never say to her. I probably had that thought once in the third year when I was going to pick her up from her home to uni I got those red roses for her to tell her how I felt about her. But the moment I entered into the gate of her house something in me pulled me back, a thought had passed on to me; Will she be happy as she is now, without me? Does she really deserve someone like me? I then dropped the flowers near her garden, she looked at me from the window and silently walked on to my side and sat into my car. She had sheer disappointment she had those diamond tears that she silently wiped from her face and looked at me for explanation but there was nothing more i could say and we once again dissolved our silences into our screamy punk music. As soon as I parked my car in the uni parking she reached on to me so close that i could listen to the rhymes of her breath I could smell every strand of her hair her gaze met mine and i got dissolved into her lips. Her lips were supple like rose petals I was loosing myself into the long desired love. I shuddered in the moment of time realizing where this was going and pulled out the door and started moving on to the lift wihout looking back. I was burning inside I couldn't stop to look at her.
On the last day she looked most beautiful than ever I wanted to tell her how pretty she was although from a critical male perspective she was an average looking girl, I honestly didn't care she was the one who had known life and lived it to fullest unlike the showy kinds of her genre. She came to me and sat besides me like everyday she had millions of questions in her eyes which I couldn't answer.After the class ended she turned up to tell me she was engaged to one of her school mates who had asked her out and was a family friend. I was shattered and portrayed as if I was happy and congratulated her to make her feel I was not much affected.
She immediately had tears welling I couldn't see her in pain I knew particularly when I was bidding her good bye and I was the cause of her pain. I hugged her for the first time she wept more and more, I cuddled her and she finally pulled away. I was loosing her. I dropped her home and she invited me for her wedding in the following month. She questioned me "Do you still not love me? Did you ever love me? please answer me I can't take these questions anymore" I was silent and drove past looking at her from the mirror and tears rolled from my eyes. I attended her wedding and allowed her to be free from me to be with a person who would always love her no matter what. She was my angel, she was my shooting star which had to pass someday. He was a nice guy I had met him often and he had shared with me once about his feelings for her and I encouraged him to go further. I left that day after her wedding without bidding her good bye. I have written a letter for her to answer all the questions she had in those 4 years because i knew she wouldn't do justice to herself unless I left and I wouldn't ever do justice to her. She loved me more than I did.
And now here I am, I am quitting the world for her happiness. Good Bye. I love you.