Love that lied, the love that died...

It was one such cold night of January, two years back. Wintry and unfriendly. Still, Abeer was in a vest and a pair of his favorite shorts, sitting out in lawn. Still. And lost. Perhaps in his thoughts, or in the stars’ lots. This was his way of combating. Until sometime in the past he used to disregard the winter talking to his love.  That night, he was doing the same to his love, confronting the winter.

Next to him was kept a packet of cigarettes, and an empty matchbox. And abutting his slippers, were resting many cigarettes’ butts, worn out of resting his spirits. When life mocks, it mocks but marvelously. There was a time when Abeer used to go without smoking, using that money in calling his girlfriend. But that night he was not. There were times when he used to have an urge to smoke, but no cigarettes. But that night he had both an urge and cigarettes as well, but he has been smoking so much lately that he ran out of matchsticks. As I said, when life mocks, it mocks just marvelously.

His body was literally shivering, while sitting there. But he was meandering, somewhere. And all of a sudden his phone beeped. The name flashing on the screen brought him all the way back to the one, he was trying to be oblivious to, Meera.

And as he opened her text, he read it in just one lungful of air.

“How long did it take,

for the world to change?

Once a beloved,

now a nursing maid.

The presence once felt

with fun and frolic,

now a pleasure sardonic.

The pallid sunset 

threatens the memory of day,

my reflections

filthy and sordid today.

The swelling moon now,

invites the swooning fate. 

Should I wake up to lie again?”

His eyes had turned red, and as he read, he was already on his way back to his room. He so desperately wanted to call her and call off the relationship. But in the back of his mind he knew he won’t be doing that. Red does not represent anger just like that. If it does so, it’s because it also indicates you to STOP.     

And that night he didn't call her. Instead he engaged himself putting his feelings into words…

"Dear Meera...

Dearest Meera...

Meera...

Tell me what should I do now. Tell me. What should I say you now, tell me? According to you, you can’t live without me. OK, neither can I. But again, it’s hard for us to live together, and we very well know this. There is a gap, a rift formed between us now. We both don’t want to do anything for that, but still we want to overcome that, may be we want  the other person to make an effort, and we would have to do so, if we tend to live together again. 

Don’t take this as my reluctance; don’t take this in any way, in any sense. It would be better if you don’t read this. Actually the best would be if I am not writing this, hell yeah!

Yeah, yeah, yeah... that's true. I admit, I don't like these phonic conversations anymore. Because I don’t find any sense in it. I want to see you in person, Meera. I want to meet you, I want to see you. And then I guess I can talk for hours, for days.

Yes it’s a good way to stay connected, I agree, but I don’t just want to be stay connected. I want to live "in" you, Meera.

Yes the world has changed, the things have changed. But you see; only the phases have changed. The faces are still the same. And same are their ways.

Oh, I have no idea, what all am I blabbering, and neither I want to go above and read it all now, because I know if I do so, I will be erasing half of what is written. I will be going into hiding my feelings, gagging it.  

Since the beginning, I have been speaking my heart out to you, and then you help me decipher my mind to me. And mind you, it’s one of the most beautiful things I like about us. And I don’t want that to change now.

Meera, neither do I want to lose you...

Come back again Meera, come back to me. And don’t you dare say this now that you are still here and were never gone.

You know the best thing about us, first we cook a gap, and then we try overlooking the gap, to be together. Ha ha ha ha… I like this so much. :)

I don’t know... Well I seriously don’t know what is all this. Bloody true, so truly true. You have really shown me what not days, and in what not ways Meera.

Look, we know what we want, but still if we are confused, then we are not. I can’t see you like this, neither can you see me in pain. Can you? Or do you?

Bloody you. I regret coming close to you. 

Fuck you, Meera.

Yours for(n)ever

Abeer."