Sunday, July 7, 2013

Something called Love


{Fiction}



I missed you” the first time she heard it, her heart fluttered.. his feeling found words while hers still ached in her heart..  she swallowed and fought her tears.. it took him two whole years of separation from her to realize this and 6 more months to finally blurt this out in a party, to which they both seem to have decided to go only to catch a glimpse of the other person. He had looked into her eyes and said it sincerely and meant it.  Their relation dated back to their college days, where they experienced love and romance and lust for the first time in their life. Her concept of love and his were different as night and day or as any men or woman would want. When his thoughts hit the right side or the pendulum she was swinging towards the left. He sought to take it slow and she fancied extreme steps like marriage, acceptance and eloping more than anything she needed confirmation.

That was the point when he felt that things were moving very fast, her demands and love suffocated him like overdose of sweetness, he panicked, advocated this sabbatical, she accepted, to satisfy him, to shut him and to have him come back she waited for 2 years doting her love for him as much as or even more than the love as such. If he had noticed it then, she would have made a good beloved and understanding wife, the one he always wanted, the one his hypocritical mind ridiculed but craved for, in those endless fantasies.

Meeting again after 2 years, and with those magical words they were together again, like there never was a split-up. Soon they settled into their pre-separation era and continued their episodes with more passion and fire and vigour. Her days were filled with his memories and his.. waiting for the moments with her. Apart from the regular clichés and hormones there was something else that made them come together, they felt that they were meant to be together.

To a normal eye, she was a typical modern woman secretly crying over her fat and blunt nose and he an epitome of gloominess and was a more depressed version of her, a simple man indulging in his dark fantasies unspotted behind his locked and dark room of his parents apartment and ridiculing them in broad day light before others. But together their veil lifted. To her, his erotic fantasies were an obligation of her beauty and her submission an victory to him.

They continued their courtship and romance with the same vigour for few more months until one day he wakes up again feeling different and that they were not similar at all. He then casually and unintentionally sprinkled that idea into her with his fights… pointed glances and double ended dialogues. He enjoyed overpowering her with the doubts.. but why? He never knew.. but it worked and started to go ablaze and shook the whole foundation of them. It alarmed her, on a fateful day, they argued, cried, pacified, sympathized each other competing to walk out as the more pained and suffered one, as the one that can be un-guilty and blame the other for this situation and call themselves cheated and call it a sacrifice. Like serendipity both their untouched coffees were removed by two different waiters separately. Then the boy and girl, I like to call them as a boy and girl or a man and women and not give them a name, a name detaches them from me and us, without name they are in us and around us. So the boy and the girl walked away in their separate ways.

After three more years, when she lay sprawled in her room after a long day’s work, undisturbed by the storm outside she receives an email with only a “I missed you”. After a delay, she sat up and cried into the phone.

I understood that she was crying because he took the phone and walked away to the bathroom and started pacifying her. I lay in the bed awake on contrary to his thoughts that I was sound asleep and his voice was chocking. I listened turned to the other side of bed with silence, just  the way I listened on my wedding night when he recited to me about his love and the girl with rough hands and probably soft bosom. To me.. it is something… called love..  

{Fiction}

7 comments:

  1. Marvelous would be an understatement.How do you do this?Everyone says that love can't be described in words it needs volumes and volumes of books and yet it won't be sufficient.But i would be very truthful and tell you,you like no other person has described me love whole and complete with every fiction of yours i have fallen in love :)
    I wait for these eagerly.And how ironic right when you says that let me not give them names because they are present around us or are us then why do you tag it as fiction? :)

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    Replies
    1. Hello Dear Alcina.. thank you.. well.. fiction or not.. i am happy that it touched you.. but again is this really a happy love story! I doubt it..! hehe especially becuase it is me writing..! :P

      Thanks a lot dear for reading this and commenting.. it means a lot to me..!!

      Regards,
      Krishnapriya

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  2. What should the wife do? I am asking myself...

    Maybe, she should walk out too...and then he might come after her, and not another, saying "I miss you"...What do you think?

    If the wife does not walk out, then she is at fault too.. right?

    Good one, KP (as in Vandanam's Jagadeesh?)...hahaha

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  3. Hey dear Arjun!

    Thank you for reading and commenting!! :))) and about KP joke as long as no one comes up with questions you are safe!!! :)))

    Well!!! When I wrote it I too thought about it! But I wanted to end it this way! Because what I wrote was a typical love story with the easily forgotten third person (the wife here)

    I agree that may be she should leave but is it for temporary or permanent! I am not the one to say!!

    Thanks again!!

    Cheers.

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  4. I liked the way you have written but left me somewhat sad at the end.

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    Replies
    1. Hello Partha!!!

      How are you?? Long time no see!!!

      Thanks a loooooot for being here!!! :)))))))) made my day!!

      Yes indeed.. A little curious! Did you fell sad towards the wife or lover??? :)))

      Regards,
      Kp

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  5. It is just today I know you blog.. Nice ones !!

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