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Monday 20 February 2012

when it happens...



She got up from the bed and stood in front of her full length mirror, she had been crying for days her tears had dried up now but she wept on anyways. She starred mutely at her reflection; pale as paper, eyes all swollen up and blood red, hair all messed up like clothes. She hadn’t bothered eating either; the pain was too much for that. She wanted to break the mirror but then she recalled what she used to say whenever she heard people doing that, 'what do they get out of breaking all their precious stuff?'
Satisfaction, she got the answer. She wouldn’t break something ever, but she went ahead and did it anyways, breaking the mirror to pieces. And it felt way better than sobbing it all out. So she went to the kitchen and took out the old crockery set she was meaning to give to the charity, smashing it seemed so much more reasonable now. One by one she shattered the plates by throwing them against the floor or the wall. Her arm cut twice but she couldn’t care less, she wailed loudly and helplessly the tears floating in her eyes, blurring her vision. Suddenly the air felt so musky and dirty she took her throbbing outside where she somehow crashed right on the main street.
When she woke up all she saw was white; White walls, white sheets, and white floors. It took her a moment to realize that it was a hospital room.  She felt drowsy and far from reality but as soon as the door opened she felt as if every color in the world had exploded turning that white room into heavens. Like a box of paint had been opened and thrown violently around, only it looked beautiful; every color so distinct and bright.
Laying there all rosy and pale she smiled to herself as she looked into the eyes of a complete stranger who looked like an old friend, for she had fallen in love with him at the very first sight. He looked back at her confused and then came over and sat in the chair lying close to the bed.
'Hi, you…um fell in front of my car so I brought you here. They say you are better now, you are! Aren’t you?' he looked at her gently 'I know! The stupor will wear off; it's because of the meds.'
He seemed to have read her mind. He spoke too much, speaking on and asking her questions she couldn’t answer. She used to be that way. She was such. She spoke a lot, too much and at times it would cause her so much trouble. She had a wild take on life, nothing quite like anyone, always speaking her mind, doing things no one else would. Yet, in front of this completely beautiful stranger she couldn’t say a word; she could but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to scare him off; she just wanted to hear the voice that brought her tranquility all so unexpectedly. Maybe she had lost her voice. When he got up to leave bidding her a good bye she shook her head quickly and held on to his hand without meaning to.
'Don’t worry! Um… I will call someone over to keep company.' He said then he got on to the phone whispering to someone.
He left her with that girl who at first she had mistook to be his girlfriend but who was actually his sister. With her, she found, she could talk and speak freely but as soon as he came back into the view she surely lost her voice. She reacted late due to all the medicines, but she responded by shaking her head, nodding or smiling with him. She could listen to him forever. She noted that he spoke meaningfully between sentences, he'd be talking of something so distinct and somewhere in the middle he'd compliment her or he'd say some words of great inspiration and meaning and she couldn’t react before he'd be too far off telling her something completely different. He opened up his life for her, telling her stories from his past and events that he hoped would take place in the future. He was careful of what he said and did, for him life was all about keeping his closest possessions safe and acquiring all that was within his potential. If he wanted something he'd surely get it.
He was so much unlike her still so appealing. During all these chats she'd sit locked in the trance of his voice, eyes and smile barely registering anything else.  She knew he had heard her talk to his sister, she once saw him standing by the door while she spoke rapidly like she did until she saw him and then it was the colors bursting all over again and her speechlessness. In all her life she hadn’t been as wordless as he made her. So different.
She was finally out of the hospital and he was dropping her home. They were in the car and the rain had left all the windows fogged up yet it didn’t exasperate him, he drove as calmly as ever, whereas, if it had been her she would have been cursing and complaining. Not now though, she quietly drew on the fogged up window while listening to his voice. He was telling her of some recent dealers he had managed to get into a big agreement.
'… I could see all the profit but my fat boss couldn’t. But I get what I know is mine, just like you, so I got them right back and made an agreement with them. And you'll see the profit that will bring us in less time, the economic values will rise and the demand will too…'
She abruptly sat straight in her seat for a minute then pinching herself she looked at him questioningly. And that’s when he looked right back at her, smiled and said
'You are, aren’t you? Mine to keep. Forever' and all the colors exploded all over again.
Momina.
 

Wednesday 15 February 2012

no curtain call.


She came swinging from the strong cord; hair flying, her dress soaring with the action and she bumped into him and they both toppled to the ground, staring into each others' eyes with such deep emotions.
With that the curtains were closed and the crowd was on its feet, applauding.
She makes sure the curtains have been drawn before hurriedly getting up from where she had fallen on top of him. She dusts herself and looking around, because she doesn’t want to look him in the eye.
'Um…nice show…I got to change' she says and rushes to her changing room.
He raises his eye brows but doesn’t say anything as he lifts himself off the floor and looks around. He can hear the praises of the crowd also the sounds of it shuffling out the doors of the theater. The crew has already started clearing the stage. The director doesn’t looks up from where he's already planning out the next play. He doesn’t comes up clapping his hands and shouting 'good show, brilliant!' like he used to.  Sigh, people change to fast. He signals to one of the men and he hastily gets him a coke can. At least the love of acting remains, he thinks to himself peeking behind the curtains at the bare hall. He makes his way to the dressing room.


She's all changed and washed; Wet hair dripping and hand bag ready on her shoulder. She hangs her costume on the rail and turns only to find him coming in sipping coke.
'Great show right? Coke?' he holds a spare can in his other hand which she hadn’t notice. But she knew he wasn’t sharing his own. Maybe.
'Yes! Thanks.'
'I do like the ones themed on love. So deep, right?' he makes it sarcastic.
'Very! Not that it really matters, it's all acting and people are so easily fooled' she says with a nervous laugh.
'They sure are, but it's only so long till they are fooled. Deep down they know the truth, don’t they?' he really means it this time.
'Yeah I guess…'
'Then why not stop the act for those who know the truth. Why lie to their faces? Why not tell them the truth? Make it easy for both'  he is now standing close to her, looking at her intensely while she looks down at her feet.
'Maybe it's not the right time? Maybe not the truth...... I got to go' she passes him and gets out the door but what he says stops her in her tracks.
'But don’t you see it is. The perfect time or the perfect place might never come; maybe this is the ideal time. Say it! You might not get the chance again'
She smiles, she turns 'but I don’t have to say it when you know it'
'I know it' he says and envelopes her in a heartfelt embrace.
This time there is no curtain call, no music and no applauds. It's real, it's love.

Momina.

Tuesday 7 February 2012

Seclusion II



I could feel the frost around me, random thoughts bombarding me but not bothering to stay. I could feel the hesitation, the hope, the regret. Disappointment. A prayer said silently for what stands ahead, wishing it won't go unheard like the rest. My steps are slow and I have an intense feeling that they won't take me much far. I barely know where I tread neither does my semi-consciousness cares. It gets heavier every time; the weight of expectations, the burden of realities, the biased truth! It's not simple it gets demanding and as predicted I feel myself falling, down under the weight of myself, the world. There's no tranquility surrounding me, like I hoped for, rather an agitated and disconcerted environment that I feel. I can't keep my eyes open, but I can't close them either. Not yet! I'll plead forgiveness, I shall beg for serenity, I want to know the way it feels, I want to sense it around me. But maybe not. Help! It's pulling on me. I drift in and out of the blackness. No please! Not the shadows! I detest them, loath them. But I get no choice they drags me with powers so prevailing, their mighty and violent aura's threatening and enveloping, they leave me no choice but to slacken my hold and I let go and away from my very last connection.





Momina.


picture from: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=190484320979553&set=a.178864582141527.45962.174408115920507&type=3&theater