The First Piece I Ever Wrote For Tumblr. Its Been Months Now And It Brings Back A Lot Of Memories...

.’.’.’.’.’.’.’.’

I was walking down the foothills of some huge mountain, in a small corner of this world. It was an evening with mist, a slight shiver and a cool breeze… I was walking with some excellent music plugged in, a nice evening of solidarity.

That’s when I saw two really old men sitting next to each other, sharing a cigarette and smiling at each other. At a glance, they seemed like two people who had grown old together, that smile caught a lot of warmth, I couldn’t resist a smile looking at them.

I walked past them, sat on a small rock and lit a cigarette and started smoking, they were still smiling, I couldn’t stop myself from talking to them

‘Hey uncle, are you guys childhood friends?’ I asked.

They looked at each other, then at me and smiled again, I couldn’t quite understand what that smile meant, maybe they did not want to answer, so I continued smoking and looked away.

A few minutes later someone tapped on my shoulder, I looked up and saw those two smiling faces…

‘We just met each other a couple of years ago, and are deeply madly in love’ and they gave out a shy smile followed by the answer. That blush on their face was undefinable. I gave out a smile, they waved at me and told me,

“find that love soon, we waited a bit too long”

I love old couples, because there is this happiness on seeing people having spent their entire life with someone. It sends out hope. I always believed love was in growing old together, and that love was doing everything together. But I had never seen love like that, the love in the eyes of those two, in the smile of those two, it was beyond all the love I had known, it was the love that made me smile throughout my way back. 

The crying man in the train

I travel a lot, not because I love to, but because I have to. When I was young I used to travel from Bangalore (where I used to live at that time) to Palakkad (which is my native place). And the best of entertainment which I used to get were the rush in trains, the tea and samosa hawkers, the announcements, everything was just wonderful. And being young all I did during those journeys was sleep. (I am a person who can sleep anywhere, anytime).

After my fifth standard the train journeys all came to a halt as we settled in Kerala. And then after seven years or so, my journeys came back again. I went Mangalore to do my graduation and with that I started travelling a lot.

Sometimes I used to travel with my friends while otherwise alone. And during all these times my only company were my books. I always stay away from my co passengers. I don’t like talking to strangers for no reason at all. Most of the time, I travel by unreserved ladies’ compartments and hence neither is there any entertainment (As there are no boys) nor am I interested in the co passengers with whom I travel. But once I travelled by a general compartment and that is where I met the crying man.

That time I was travelling from Vellore to Palakkad and since there was no direct train I had to get down in Coimbatore and board a different train to Palakkad. I got down at Coimbatore and there was a connection train to Palakkad which left in just about five minutes.

My train was in platform no. 4 and my connection train was in platform no. 3 for which I had to go all the way down and climb another bridge and there was very little time left and so I had to literally run, still by the time I reached the other platform with my two heavy bags and my sling back the train had already started moving hence I had to board on to a general compartment.

And there I met the guy. I was sitting in a semi empty berth. A lady was sitting to my left, and on the berth opposite to mine also only a lady was sitting.

And after around 2 minutes or so a guy came and sat opposite to me. He was tall, dark, and was in almost his late 30s or his early 40s. A good looking guy for that matter. But what caught my eyes was not his charm but his moist eyes. Well the matter that he was crying was not strange as it is a natural human emotion. But what was strange was the fact that he was crying in public, now that is not common especially in a country like ours where from the beginning the boys are thought not to cry especially in public.

At first I just let it go because it’s a free world and anybody can cry anywhere, but he was just not stopping it. He went on and on, and he was wiping his tears with his sleeve and shirt and so out of courtesy I gave him my handkerchief. He accepted it and started wiping his tears and blowing his nose.

“Hey, are you all right?” I asked

“Actually…. no” was his reply

“I know I am a stranger but sometimes talking to a complete stranger helps the most"

“Maybe, it will…. But I … I don’t know you”

He was right why should he tell a stranger the reason for his sadness.

“Ya you’re right.” Was all I could say.

But after around five minutes he talked to me again

“I am sorry for being rude I know you were just trying to help”

“It’s ok”

My curiosity to know his problem was now at peek. But I dint want to intrude again. So I just kept quiet and waited for him to open up himself.

“Well my wife is returning today”

“Returning from..?”

Well asking that was a mistake because now he started crying again

“Why are you sad if she is returning, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Well if she had left for her parent’s house then I should be happy but she had an extramarital affair with my colleague and now since he got bored with her she is returning”

“What??” I exclaimed

“I know it all sounds strange, but you won’t understand, I don’t even know why I am explaining my whole story to you, maybe because as you said, saying everything to a stranger may help or maybe even because there is no one to whom I could tell all this

I had a best friend in office, he was my only friend. And he used to come home a lot too because I used to insist, maybe that was the biggest mistake I ever did. He was a bachelor and he always wanted to have home food and all, so I thought maybe I could help.

His character was also not that good; he changed his girlfriends every now and then and engaged in a lot of one night stands. I dint judge him for what he did because it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do.

But I dint think that this character of his would ruin my family life. My wife is very attractive. And instantly my wife and my friend became good friends and I dint think there was any harm in it, I was not among those husbands who have problem with their wife having male friends.

And within no time my wife and my friend were having an affair, well they managed it well because I dint have even a slightest doubt about them.”

I had to ask, “How did you know then?”

“I came to know about it when my wife ran away with him. She dint even explain things to me she just sent me a text saying “I’m leaving” and just left”

I gazed in astonishment. “Well do you have kids?”

“Yes a girl studying in class II”

I dint say anything, as he was saying it so he can be relieved I dint want to make it awkward for him.

“Well it’s been two weeks now and my wife called me yesterday and said sorry. She is returning today, I am going to pick her up”.

I was amazed, I was out of words, a guy was going to pick his wife who left him for two weeks, god I have never seen a guy like this, I wanted to ask a lot of things, but again I was just a stranger...

Maybe he read my mind or something

“I know you would be wondering what a guy I am. Maybe she just felt it as the heat of the moment and now she regrets, or maybe worse he is not a commitment guy, I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know either, I just love my wife and my kid and I want my kid to have both her mom and dad to be with her when she grows up.

By then his station came, he bid me farewell forever, thanked me for listening to him and went away. I don’t even know his name. And I won’t meet him for the rest of my life also, but he left me with a heavy heart. I was speechless. I have seen a lot of couples in my life, my parents, my uncles and aunts, and a lot others like that.

My own parents were divorced. They have two kids but they dint think of any such thing. In fact no man’s ego would allow him to do such a thing.

The crying stranger was one of world’s best fathers I have known.

I diagnosed myself of suicidal tendencies.

I'm over it now

I'm glad I'm over it.

I was fascinated by death

But it's over now.

What would have happened

If my thoughts had gone real..?

If my laziness had not pertained.?

Yes, I was lazy to die too...

I would have jumped off that building I pass through everyday.

I would have been somewhere else now

Food to the worms

And in time would have been just bones and only bones.

Many would have cried....

Some for days, others for weeks, and

Yet a few for months.

But the law of memory would have allowed everybody to forget me.

That's what happens to everybody.

That's normal.

But then, why is it normal..?

Why do we forget..?

We say people are everything

Then why do we forget..?

I know its moving on,

And that it's very essential.

But then, most of the time

The person doesn't even remain in our vaguest memory.

Aniversaries of death in the initial years

Brings back the flood of tears.

But with years, even that dissappears.

So, what significance do people have

What do they mean in life.?

That haunts me today

More than my chaos.

And now, death does not facinate me

But rather the question....

Why does the memory fade away..?

I see this building everyday

Standing tall and bold

And every time I pass it,

I feel it has something to tell me

I wish it had emotions

Because people around me do not

Even if they have they don’t show anymore just to me but to anybody

Emoticons today express emotions better than faces

And buildings speak more than people

Maybe I’m paranoid

Seeking emotions in objects

But trust me

People don’t show emotions anymore

The faces look pale and eyes moist

The mouth opens to speak

But lips close and a vague smile pops

It’s difficult to know

You seem fine but you’re not

You seem stable but you’re not

It’s hard to understand

Because you don’t speak

Nor do you smile

All I see is a vague smile that’s hiding

All the emotions I want to know

I wish you burst out

Because the building I see shows more emotions than you do

I connect to it more that I do to you

In the house of the dead man.

Today I had to wake up early. My grandpa's maternal uncle had passed away and my granny had to go. I have never met this guy in my life, but I was dragged because there was no chauffer available at home.

When you go to a house of a dead person, you expect silence and mourning. But it was not at all like that. Forget talking good or bad about the dead person. People were delighted that they were all meeting after a long long time.

I hear women buzzing around me. They were enquiring about everything. The new jewellery brought, the new property accquired, about someone's wife and yet someone else's child's marriage. The discussions were endless.

Yet the dear and near ones of the diseased were sobbing. And whenever anyone came accross them, tears started flowing as if only a switch was to be pressed.

This made me wonder how easily humans change their emotional state. One moment its gossip and the next moment its sorrow. How?

And on my way back my granny was complaining how many did not acknowledge her presence. The occation and the dead man are forgotton even before the body was taken. Human still remain the most complex being...

Yay! Its my birthday

As mothers, she held her close,

Trying to feed by milking her blood

She was more than happy, a little more confused

Euphoria maybe or post pregnancy hormones

She was scared to let go, the baby was so tiny and fragile…

 .

He came in, a little late, hurried to see if his beloved was okay

Yes he was happy, but more worried I guess

He held her close, and apologized

Asked her whether she was happy or not

 .

They both looked at the baby, happy and content

This seemed to be a moment that could be captured

 .

It’s been years since then, I look up at the picture

My mom telling me what that day meant

I have heard this story a hundred times, but each time she says it a different way

 .

Sometimes I see her telling me that story with so much happiness that I wish he was around

And yet other times there is so much hatred I am glad they aren’t together…

 .

And yet, when he tells me the story I see pain as to not having spent enough time with me

 .

I don’t know whether to hate them both or love them

Either way I seem caught in an endless cycle

Lost

He saw me that day, but just walked away. I looked at him, at his deep brown eyes that said a thousand words, sang a hundred songs. I saw that he still loved me but yet decided to walk away. If I ask him, he would say that it’s for my own good. But I fail to understand what is this good that I have without him. What is that he does not want to make me a part of his life?

I asked, I screamed but he just turned away.

Well I know all this just sounded a bit too melodramatic, but trust me it isn’t. Whatever he did to me at that wedding day walking away from me was just not fine. Yes, my fiance “the love of my life” just walked away from our wedding without even looking at me.

My beloved father who had been separated from my mother for the past 15 years, to whom I have not talked more than a couple of times all this while decided to turn up for my weeding. The problem was not he coming to the wedding (even though that was my main intention behind not inviting him) but his reaction. Like any other melodramatic movie father, in the moment of “kanyadan” came when my maternal uncle was giving away my hand, this great man created a scene stating nobody else other than him can do that. Well if he had been there when I wanted him maybe I would have let him, I definitely do not need a father for namesake. So I decided to go against it. And seeing this drama my would-be in-laws decided to grab the opportunity, as they from the beginning had a problem in my parents being separated. So my fiance’s mother took him by his hand and grabbed him out of the hall… and I stood there staring at him walking away with his mother as a four year old kid being denied of his favorite toy. This was crazy, crazy as ever.

My dad dint stop there he accused me of not inviting him for the wedding and challenged that without him I could never get married. Well I dint want to anymore. My friends, the literal love of my life came up and made sure the drama ended. The humiliation, the heartbreak, the frustration all that came stemmed up and all wanted to do was run away, run away from all these eyes staring at me, from all the fake sympathy I was going to get. All I did was run, reached my room packed my bags, took my wallet, my passport and took a cab to the airport. I had no idea where I was going. I dint want to cancel my holiday and go back to US because again I will have to explain stuff there. All I wanted was to go somewhere.

With no idea in my head as to my destination I was sitting in the airport when suddenly my phone beeps, I get a call from an unknown number, at first I ignore thinking it is someone wanting to know where I was, but then I decided to pick it up at the third ring. It was the hotel confirmation for my honeymoon. Well I dint have my “honey” with me but I guess I could go there and get some peace of mind. I decided to go, checked in, it was a 3 day package, and as I was not among the girls who would morn over ice cream.

I went in, ordered some alcohol, took a long and refreshing shower and sat in the balcony watching the beach, drink in one hand and a cigar in another. I wanted to just stay like this, away from all the mess, all the confusion that just was there in my life. I dint want to take up any trouble right now. And my phone was lying there dead just like me, I dint switch it on after coming back, I dint want anybody to know where I was, and come for me.

Finally after three days of seldom loneliness, alcohol and sleep I realized that I dint do anything to come under hiding. I decided to go back, face everybody because it was not me who walked out of the wedding; it was not me who couldn’t take a stand against the person I loved. He did that, if there was anyone to be ashamed of, it was him. After being in love for bloody 8 years, and knowing me in and out, if he has done this to me, then it is not me who deserves this isolation. I switched on my phone, there were hundreds of texts and calls, I ignored them all knowing it would all be the same from different people. And then my phone buzzed, it was him, Imran, well I dint want to talk to him, now or forever, I did not pick up his call, nor did I reject it, and then came a call from my aunt, she at first scolded my which was obvious as they did not know where I was, what was I doing, and when I told her where I was and what I was doing she relaxed. She said Imran had called a number of times, and that he wanted to apologize and get married to me and me alone. But I did not. She said that he had come home every hour hoping I would have come back. I did not want to see his face.

Finally, in the evening when I  decided to check out and head back home, I heard a knock at my door, I thought it was the coffee I ordered and told the person to come in, but mistaken was I, it was him, he was standing right in front of me, looking right into my eyes this time, wanting to explain a thousand things, but I dint want to hear even a single thing he had to tell, all I said was a small good bye, hugged him out and told him to leave, not just from my room but from my life.

He wanted to speak, opened his mouth but maybe realized that it was all in vain and just left.

I am not going to be melodramatic and say that “all men are one” or that “I hate men” or something. I just lost trust in him, and in the whole thing called as “love”. And this trust once broken takes a lot of effort to get healed, to be gained back, and so I guess will be my case, as for me it will take another lifetime to trust someone and fall in love all over again.

If I could...

I always wonder, if I could do a lot of things, life would have been a bit more simpler.

if I could read other people's mind it would have been simpler to avoid complications, to not hurt people. I would not have broken the trust of my beloved and regret those lies.

if I could go back in time, I would have undone a lot of things that hurt her and made her eyes go wet. I would have not fallen in love with all those wrong guys and now be in a state of hating love.

if I could get a second chance, I would apologize to all those whom I hurt.

if I could.... if I just could... I would do a hundred things that made life simpler, that made life easier.

“Giving you pain is not the only way life knows to make you suffer. Sometimes taking the pleasure out of you will suffice.”

lsr