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The Graves

His 45th birthday! A day which mocked him yet again, reminded him of the time that he had wasted, all those years that he had not utilized. He sat up on his bed, resting back at the headrest, staring at that face of her’s, which was still beautiful. Oh! The love of his life! He had done everything right in his life. A decent job, a decent lifestyle, a decent income and a decent family. He had fulfilled all of her needs and of his sons. They respected him and loved him and so did his parents. They were proud of him. He had fulfilled all the promises he had made to them, and all of those promises he had made to her; but what of those that he had made to himself! He sat there, his eyes drifting towards the darkness, thinking the same that his eyes could see, nothing! When else was he going to be that bestselling writer that he had always promised himself he would be. Where is that fame that he always thought he would achieve. Where are the fans. Where, the luxury! And when he thought about it, he realized he had actually achieved nothing in life. He had merely wasted his life. Those big plans, had never materialized. Those dreams, never came true.

He got up, breaking his reverie and snailed across the room into the washroom. The sound of the water from the tap filled his ears. He collected as much water as he could in his palms and splashed the water on his face trying to break out of the negativity that was drowning him. He stared right into his eyes in the mirror. It was suffocating. This monotonous breathing of his. He moved away from the eyes and stared at the wrinkles on his face. The futility of experiences that he had gathered, locked among these wrinkles. He stood there blank, without a frown or a tear or a smile, for he did not know what to do nor what to think of himself. He had wasted it all. All his years; in achieving everything! In being one of the rest. He wasn’t any different. He wasn’t special. Bound to be forgotten. He couldn’t face himself anymore and so he turned and walked into the darkness of the room again; the darkness which resembled more the inside of his mind. He got into the bed as slowly as he could and stared at her face once more. His treasure. She opened her eyes slowly and looked right into his eyes. 

‘Something wrong?’, she asked.

‘Nothing at all!’, he smiled with all the strength he had left in him and kissed her forehead.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, into that heavy heart of his. He held her close. The only fan, the only achievement of his life, his only treasure.

And then he went to sleep, with the love of his life and the graves of his dreams and desires.

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Posted by on March 14, 2017 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Alternate Lives

“I’m glad I went through all those miseries.”, he said half waiting for her to ask the reason.

“And why is that?”, she asked, just as he had predicted she would. She was a curious one; intelligent and fond of crazy theories just like him. He liked forming them, she liked listening to them; and they would have long discussions on concepts that may never exist; a whole world based on merely one single assumption. After such a long time, he had found her; someone he could be completely himself with.

“When I think about it, I’m glad I have you.”, he said and looked at her smiling through the corner of his eye. “Look, I have had so many choices over the years and I have taken so many decisions during the years that I have lived, right?”, he paused for her to understand, “And for every option that I had, my life could have been so different. So, for every single option that I left out, there would have a been a completely different life that I would have been living. A different life, if I did take the options that I left out.”, and his eyes stared at hers; begging them to understand what he was saying.

“Alternate way of living?”, she asked.

“Close.”, he smirked, “Alternate lives.”

She nodded. “So?”

“So what if, for every single combination of all the choices that you make in your entire life, there is a change in the life that you live. And what if every single one of these alternate lives is completely different from the other; and there can be unlimited combinations of choices, right?,” she nodded. “What if, for instance, this is the only combination of all the choices in my life for which I would have you in my life?”

“A coincidence then?”, she asked seriously thinking about it and glared at him through the spectacles that reflected her intelligence.

“Isn’t it?”

She merely nodded. So many thoughts going on inside her. What if he had never noticed her? What if he hadn’t told her that he had a crush on her? What if he hadn’t broken up with every single girl that he had ever been with in his entire lifetime? What if anyone of those relationships had worked out? What if everything hadn’t gone south in his life? How coincidental their love was. How coincidental this entire thing between them. How she would’ve meant nothing to him had it been for one different choice. The thoughts just wouldn’t stop. There is a downside to being intelligent. You just can’t stop thinking.

She slept with a heavy heart that night not knowing whether she should be grateful to fate or to be scared.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And this time he did not go to that party which was on the night before his exams. He studied the entire night; and he did well.
He did not have to go into some crappy college; and this time, he went into a renowned one.

He boarded his usual train back home from college one day and as he was getting down, he stumbled into this beautiful girl who missed the train because of him. He kept apologizing, over and over again, and waited for the next train with her, to compensate for what he had mistakenly done.

She found it really sweet, he was in love with her beauty already too.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And this time he walked into a coffee shop with his friends; and they dared him to talk to the pretty girl who sat there with a book and a coffee on her table looking outside the glass window. A bunch of rich brats having fun; how typical.

He couldn’t just back off; so he went and stood right beside her table. He mumbled instead of talking and turned twice to look at his friends while standing and trying to talk to her. In a manner of joke, she gave him her number on the tissue she had on her table; just play a prank on those rich brats who had created a mess in the coffee shop.

He thanked her a million times over the phone that evening for not making him look like an idiot in front of his friends. The evening talks grew longer and the drifted through the nights. They slowly grew fond of each other.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And in this one; his first love had just broken up with him and he had no one to go to anymore. He was in tears and heartbroken and did not know what to do with his life anymore. He was devastated and alone.

His first love’s friend genuinely thought that he was a very nice guy and that he never deserved this. No one deserves to be heartbroken. Or maybe she just couldn’t bear to see anyone in pain. So she consoled him and told him that he would find the right girl and that maybe she wasn’t the one.

She was right. Her friend wasn’t the right girl. She was. It took them some time to realize it, but they eventually did.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

For every choice that he made, there was an alternate life. Thousands of choices and thousands of lives; and he had her for himself in every single one of them. In every single one of them, they were together.

 
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Posted by on April 28, 2015 in short story

 

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Inexpressiveness

They praise me, for
The creations I create.
They praise me, for
The lines that I make;
And for the way I write,
And bring to life,
My thoughts; and their feelings,
And the nature’s callings.

I talk not of happiness.
I talk not of the good times.
I pay not heed to the schemes,
Nor to the rhymes in the lines.
All I do is, express
The feelings within me;
And the sadness
In me, that you do not see.

The failures of words, you do not see;
My failure of expression, you do not see.

I write and use, all that I know.
I write my heart out, to let you know,
How beautiful it is to me,
The nature, that my eyes see.
I fail to explain the beauty;
The beauty that I see.

For how; how do I talk,
Of the dead buds on the sidewalk?
And how do I choose the perfect word,
To describe that green’s perfect shade?
And how do I talk of the fragrance,
That holds death and love in the balance!

How do you describe it when you see,
A couple in love for forever, their serenity!
Does ‘love’ do justice to what they bear?
One may find the perfect word; but where?

Perhaps my knowledge limits me.
Perhaps it is me merely being a man.
Perhaps there are no words for thee,
Oh nature, perhaps I try in vain.
But I shall strive to put you in words.
And I shall put in words, what I feel within.

And may I fail; and fail yet again.
And there I may end, where you begin.

And thus shall I fail, oh nature, in my ventures,
And yet, I shall be praised, for my failures.

 
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Posted by on February 17, 2014 in poetry

 

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