Friday, 21 August 2015

Similar Stories

After The Story

“You know, I am never going to leave you”- this is what it started with. We thought that our stories are same. But sometimes similar stories does not have a similar end. Some ends with a betrayal and some with an unchanging faith.
He was gone and my eyes were still dry. A smile enduring on my lips.
And that was the moment when I thought of it as a dream. I was at the threshold of giving up yet I stood, patiently, trying to gulp the soar words that the message had to offer.

A diary dipped in coffee spilled on the coffee table, the look in his eyes – confused, his lips stretched – not a smile, his hands – searching for that paper. I, lost in the labyrinth, somewhere far from where I already was.

There was a sudden silence, or maybe, there was too much noise for me to get affected. And then! My hands started trembling and then the rain droplets, one by one devouring me. My stomach churned, maybe, the butterflies I once experienced were dying due to suffocation.

A walk, the exchange of glances, the beaming look on his face and his hair – flowing with the wind, hands – clutching the paper he had found from under the table. I, lost in the labyrinth, somewhere far from where I already was.

The pain inducing cold started paving its way through my legs, shaking them to the core. My brain, it became a wreck and I broke. With invisible tears running down my face I walked, aimlessly. All I knew was how to get back home and my room where I could shut everything down. I walked.

“So you write?”
“Gross” I replied.
“Don’t say that.”
I smiled.

The latch seemed heavy as if the door was bolted from the inside. I struggled and ran up the stairs and then, into my room. Collapsing on the ground, my heart let out a loud cry.


I wondered what forever meant. I slept where I was. 


I am glad he was gone. He gave me another chance for myself. I am free, not a caged bird feeling sorry for her wings. Now when I look back, I smile. How everything was just a lesson. How trust is just a conjecture. Nothing stays and forever is a lie.

Sometimes we don’t want to move on, we fear the pain and yet we live with it. We are so much addicted to the memories that we start living with the false hopes of things getting better. And then nothing helps but the Utopian world existing in our mind.
But we need to stand up, dress our injuries and come out of the storm. The scars will remain but memories will fade. Soon, it will start appearing as dream. 

So, walk on the thorns, gaze at your crushes wishing for just one more look, and don’t let the blues turn your life into a dark pothole.

Sometimes similar stories does not have a similar end.