Friday, August 28, 2009

Funny thing called Love


It was the last cigarette of the packet. It’s funny how the last cigarette suddenly feels so costly as if compensating for the rest 9 of the burned ashes, he thought. His fingers now had a distinct smell of nicotine and sweat accumulated over the years.

For Animesh the lanes of Esplanade was a respite, the crowd seems to live his lost happiness on his behalf. The relentless clatter kept his mind calm, it was his own thoughts he feared the most.

He edged towards thirty but looked a lot older. Pollution he blamed. But somewhere down the rat race it was life that cheated him. Dreams were traded for reality. Promises he made to himself were long broken. A low paying job that took care of his addiction was enough for him. His eyes had the darkness of a dying person reminiscing.

His most evenings were spent in those dingy old bookstores in the back lanes surfing through sleazy crime novels. He hoped he may someday find his own story printed somewhere there. But it was too dark in there for him to find.

He walked slowly trying to make circles of smoke with his mouth. Then suddenly, a glimpse. He stopped and scanned the crowd again. Maybe he was imagining things.

Then she saw her, on New Market junction. She was still the same; bruises of life seemed to have escaped her. He was about to call her but his voice failed. The past came rushing to fill the vacuum

----------

Sitting in some un-named park in central Calcutta.

'Promise me we will always stay together’, Trina said.

'We will' It was her innocent rhetorical questions that still amused him 3 years after he met her.

He could see his future. He believed in himself.

By thirty a nice apartment in South Calcutta, those which have a park for kids to play. A happy job in one of those promising high rises coming up in his city.

After all he is an engineer, who could resist him.

And then there was Trina. All he could ever want. She always looks so pretty in blue and she knew that too.

Love is the warmth of her cheek on his shoulder. Love is her long soft fingers that so tightly gripped his hand, that sometime hurts but he wouldn’t admit. Love is that unknown perfume that she never disclosed she used. She is love.

-----------

'Do you love me?' she asked

'Yaaa' he said slightly irritated, those useless questions of her bothered him. It was 4 years of their relationship.

This was a great opportunity for him. Working at the head office in Mumbai. After all that’s where he could make all contacts that can accelerate his promotion.

'In India opportunities means compromise' his father used to say.

And he wasn’t leaving for good. Within 2 years he will be back with her and with a better life. Why can’t she understand?

----------

'Maybe we should break-up' Trina said on phone

'Maybe we should' he replied.

They haven’t met for over a year. Sometimes it was hard to recall her face. Shopper’s Stop dint kept her perfume.

He couldn't believe that she can leave him. His ego was hurt. He knew he could stop her from abandoning him, but why should he?

It wasn’t his fault; all he wanted is his career to shine enough to light both of their lives. Is that a crime?

----------

Trina stopped calling long ago. But she took something from him. He still could not figure out what. But it hurts.

Mumbai is so lonely. Every Sunday lots of family comes to crowded Juhu Beach to make sand castles. There happiness mocked him now.

She is also sad, he tries to reason himself. Hah!! Whom am I kidding?

------------

They said he had lost the edge; they have to let him go. He smirked.

He had nothing to pack. Mumbai was never his home. It was just a stop-over.

All he was worried about how he is going to spend 30 hours in train without smoking. Smoking Kills!!!

-------------

He followed her through the crowd of Esplanade. She looks happy he thought satisfyingly. Maybe she is happily married now.

A pang of jealousy shot thorough him quickly subsided by a feeling of fulfilment. He loved her so much he realised.

He thought if he should call her name, but den he saw the cigarette butt in his fingers. He had changed a lot, for worse.

He would just get her sympathy now, he didn’t deserved love anymore.

Love is her unmanaged hair through which she runs her fingers.

-------------

She was suddenly lost in crowd. But this time he did not tried to find her. He quietly turned towards the approaching tram. Its slow pace was something he could relate to.

-------------

Trina suddenly stopped in front of that dimly lit store. A blue salwar kameej displayed caught her attention. She remembered the sparkle in eyes of Animesh whenever she wore blue.

Love was in his arms that once held her tight. Love was his eyes that used to stare her for hours. Love was his voice that filled her heart. He was love.

A Drop of Tear!!

20 comments:

the second face said...

hothat ki holo tor...??? :O
sayantan "PJ" sarkar writin senti stories is like havin food wich causes lots o indigestion...

Demoniac said...

a exceptional intriguing sentimental post with a beautiful description and exquisite writing style. writer must get loads of kudos for this remarkable post ..

keep writing ...

buckingfastard said...

@ 2nd ass..opps face:blame it on da weather...its doin strange things to me!!!

@Demoniac: thnkx dude...well lemme save up my kudos fr my next post

@oder ppl:its my 1st fiction attempt...so lemme kno hw much it sucked

Sizzling Mimulus said...

kya senti tha gaya be...
i bet your curly wurly beard was meant for this writing...ab toh kaat le yaar...hum toh contri maarne ko bhi ready hain...


First attempt, not bad...

RGJ said...

Nicely written...

buckingfastard said...

@sizzling: yes it was da redemption of my beard...now i can let myself be shaved :P

@RGJ:thnk u!!!!

blunt edges said...

impressive dude! even more so since its ur 1st attempt at fiction...neat!

never heard the name trina before :)

buckingfastard said...

@blunt edges: hey thnkx fr visitin....

well u got me on dat one...da gals name is da only part of my story wich got me stuck fr longest time....finally came up wid trina...a distant cousin of mine's name

Shanu said...

Wow..that was good. And if wat blunty says is right and this is ur frst attmpt at fiction..i shld say well done!

buckingfastard said...

@ shanu: thnkx fr comin....yea it is my 1st attempt... :)

Nupur said...

Nicely done!!! loved your attention to details... the perfume thing was very cute!!
Blogrolled you!

buckingfastard said...

@Nupur: thnkx fr coming and do keep coming....
da perfume part was frm personal experience...and i am still searchin...

blogrolled u too.. :)

Diwakar Sinha said...

super cool!
at first i was hesitant to read it cos it was umm...a bit long...but once i began, there was no stopping till it ended.
hope u pen out some more

buckingfastard said...

@diwakar: yea...da length factor bothred me a bit at beginnin...but cudnt make it ny shorter... :)

compliments comin frm u..really boosts my confidence!!!

Lakshmi said...

Wow.. tht was really good.. Loved it...U ll be seeing me around :)

buckingfastard said...

@lakshmi: thnk u!! and welcome

The abstract scientist said...

very nice story line, handled nicely maintaining proper brevity. You writing style resembles mine although I write longer stories.
check this out!
http://wiseruminations.blogspot.com/2009/04/mind-of-her-own.html

buckingfastard said...

@ da abstract scientist: brevity was desired coz i knew being my 1st fiction ppl wont pay much heed to go thru if it was too long...

thnkx a lot...and keep visitn!! :)

IcE MaiDeN said...

Hey there, first time here, here from random blog hopping..

Awesome stuff man!! It immediately reminds me of something I wrote a long time back, which I know you would sort of relate to this. (i dont normally leave my blog links, but this one is somewhat on the same lines...) Check it out here sometime..

http://whitelilyz.blogspot.com/2009/01/euphoria.html

Cheers,
Annie.
P.S: Your blog looks really nice! :)

buckingfastard said...

@ice maiden:hey thnkx fr da link...and do keep visiting!!!