Troubled Love

As he walked down the wet gravel road, his thoughts wandered aimlessly; forming and diminishing, their transient meaningfulness leaving a dreadful impact of unanticipated apprehension. He knew the power of thoughts. He stopped short and started rummaging through his pockets. Walking on the street with a cigarette in one hand, a bouquet in another, and a broken thread of memories wasn’t the best image he had of himself. He kept reminding himself that crossing the line was his decision. He took another step.

Faraday’s was a melee of people after dark. It was the perfect place for forlorn lovers to bring out the angst and clear their conscience. The aroma of coffee beans and brownies stimulated a thought provoking sense of engagement. Karan stepped under the street lamp and rehearsed his questions again and again. If someone saw him that day, they must have thought the poor fellow is demented and talking to his demons. His silhouette made unfathomable random movements just like his state of mind. It was almost an hour before his cell phone beeped twice.

‘Where are you?’ read the message.

‘Meet me at the usual table’, he texted back.

The moment he walked in, there was a buzzing hum of human voices that made him feel vulnerable. As he walked towards the far end corner of the café, he could see her sitting there. She got up and started walking towards him. He put a smile as bright as morning sunshine. Less than a feet away, she smoothened the locks in her hair and puckered her lips like she was about to say something silly. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She closed the last gap between them by holding his hand and with an arched foot, she didn’t let him breathe. He trembled as his lips met hers and his eyes brooded a faraway memory. She dug her hands into his hair and caressed his face feeling the beardy contours. He grabbed hold of her arms and tried to mould himself into a tight embrace. She didn’t want to. He cupped her face into his palms and planted a deep kiss on her cheeks. And then it happened!

She got distraught and without saying anything, dug her hands into her purse, took out a white piece of paper and handed it to him. He was too entranced to understand the fragility of the situation. His lips could feel the tenderness that ensued after the pink left its mark. He steadied himself and looked at the paper that was forced into his hands. He opened it.

Dear Karan,

I write this with the intention that you won’t tear it apart and understand the shackles I am bound by. After I met you, I thought there were only two things in my life. You and Me! Everything else became trivial. I was living in a bubble of happiness too happy to burst out of it. And then roared the inextinguishable fire of my parents. The bubble was history. They looked at the side of the coin we never flipped. I didn’t even get a chance to explain myself. When I saw you at the store, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t want to burden you with the knowledge of my inevitable doom. I didn’t want to do MBA then. I still don’t want to do MBA. I want to play with words like the way you do. I want to feel the adrenaline rush I felt the first time I met you. I want to kiss you under the canopy of my hair. I want it to be the way I want it to be. I tried to push you away but I couldn’t. With your pen in my hand, I ask you to bear with my words and give me time to fill ink in the bottle, give me time to fill in the blanks I have created, give me time to make myself whole before I bore a hole in you again.

Krutika’

If you ask me as a guy sitting two paces away from them, I probably had a script for my next blog.

Karan stood transfixed while he the words echoed in his mind.

‘Give me time!’

He was about to curse out loud when someone nudged his arm. He was too lost in the letter to look back. It was the guy who owned the medical store.

Kartik Dulloo

Growth Hacker | E&C Engineer | Spell-Bee Runner up | Part Grammar Nazi, Part Grammar Hippy | Failing Anglophile

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