three words

This is what i could understand about LOVE in my twenty years of life. But there is much more hidden in those three words (which are said nowadays with so much ease) which u n me would probably never understand in this fast paced and cynical world. And if u do , then please share...

                                          The opposite senses complementing our lives

has poured an enigmatic magic into our equation

and this equation is not so easy to ignore or to solve.

The depth of your eyes fills my heart with a mesmerising

mystery when you say those “three words.”

I feel the fragrance in your voice

passion in your silence

bliss in your tone

and compassion in your eyes.

The  silence in your gaze drive me

to a world where the only voice

 audible is of heart beats.

At the intersection of our highways

I may look up to you and rethink

To develop the same old magic again.

whatever may be the distance between us

whatever may be the circumstances surrounding me

My desire to encounter you again will not fade.

First impression

Meena turned her eyes towards Gayatri  in disbelief and froze for a fraction of a second. Her phone two inches away from her ear, still on call, the campus was silent.

“where are you ?”,she broke the silence

“swan cafe”, came the reply

And then the call was disconnected from the other side.

Gayatri gazed at Meena with the questioning eyes.

“Visit the campus. Have a good time.” ,said Meena

“Is this what he said. Unbelievable. I am not concerned about myself but u  know him for a pretty good time now. This was a pathetic response. ”

“No need to call him back.” , ordered frustrated Gayatri.

Lost in their thoughts; walking seemed easier than talking about the insult just happened. None spoke. They simply followed the way, unaware of the destination.

Meena was thinking of the Facebook chat happened a few days ago. She had expressed her desire to visit his campus and he replied “anytime dear. I will show you the campus well. Just inform me once before leaving.”

She  had met him just once before on a formal occasion and that " first impression" streched the time by three months. She had developed a fondness for him in these three months. She adored his creativity. He was a painter.

And suddenly  , all this seemed like a bad dream. Deep inside , she was expecting him to call back and apologise but wanted to keep the thought away. It was not as if they could not visit this place themselves but Meena had especially come to meet him. It is not the idea of visiting the place that make your day beautiful but the company you have.

“Do you need a Guide  ?” the voice came from behind

They turned back to see a young boy standing in a cool pose  with a camera in hand. Gayatri wanted to say no .  meanwhile Meena recalled a quote “the best revenge is a life well lived.”  She didn’t remember the name of the person who said this. The word “revenge” was not fitting well in this situation but it was okay.

“but how do you know we are here to see the campus ”,asked Gayatri

“you both have been walking around this statue for the last five minutes. And…..”

A quick circumspection made  Meena aware of the blunder they were doing. She interrupted him to avoid further embarrassment  “yeah !! sure.”

“Idiots, that’s what  we are,” thought meena

“They say it right: sometimes girls don’t THINK.”

The next two hours passed  quite smoothly. They could not have hoped for a better end of this day. The young photographer’s company was a delight. His every third sentence followed good humour. And undoubtedly, girls like boys with good sense of humour.  They did not exchange numbers. Nothing was expected from any side. It was an accidental meeting borne out of betrayal which turned out to be really good.

On their way back to the hostel, Meena’s eyes glued to an advertisement poster which read “first impression is not always the last impression.”

Lady in the train

I have been to this railway station a number of times during the four years of my stay in Chennai but this time the feeling is different.As I am standing here, every second is drowning me to the good –bad, sweet-bitter memories of my college life. My friends in college, the first time we bunked classes, the college fests, the election drama, the pranks played on the professors, the race for the girlfriends. The entire film is running before my eyes. I may never come back here again. Getting a degree is beautiful but the emotions attached to those four years are too beautiful to be described in words.

As I waved my hand to say the last goodbye to my friends, I never looked so intensely at their faces. Somehow I controlled that drop of tear which was about to roll down to edge of my upper lip just like in those Shah Rukh khan movies where protagonist never cries because he is the hero. And if he does, the Indian audience does not accept him as they are too concerned about their macho image. Though the way to the railway station was quite near from my college, just a five minutes affair but today it took us twenty minutes to cover the same distance.

My journey from a shy, docile boy to a quick witted and frank dude was full of excitement, fun and thrill. Suddenly, a loud whistle stuck my ears. As the train approached nearer, the mob got divide in small groups and condensed at the gates. I too picked up my luggage and entered the coach struggling through the crowd. I checked the seat number and quickly adjusted the luggage in the luggage box. Meanwhile, I heard a tiring voice asking for help. I turned back to the octogenarian lady. She was a few steps away from me. I went ,saw her ticket, held her hand and luggage and brought her to my seat. I fixed her luggage opposite to my seat as she moved her hand on my head. She murmured something in Tamil.

Another whistle, train was all set to leave. Myriad emotions enveloped the station. Old lady seemed very interested in scene. She stuck to the window. Leaving the city busy, the train gradually picked up the speed. She shifted her eyes from the platform to me as she removed her red spectacles to clear the glasses.

“Lot of hearts welcomed me  when I had put my first step in this city at the age of 15 as a bride but today not even one is interested to perform duties or at least the formalities. Out of my four boys , none asked me where I was going?”,the old lady said in frustration.

I did not find the appropriate words to console her. So, I decided to sit quietly.

“Life gives its share of deservings to each one of us at a justified time and don’t even give time to complain, huh!! ” , she said

I simply nodded my head in approval this time as I felt the need and pressure to make a gesture and also because I still could not find the right words. She gazed at the novel in my hand and asked the name of the novel. I avoid telling the name for  the fact that she may not understand English. I tried to settle her curiosity with a monotonous reply“story book”.

I did not realise when the cold vibes threw me into sleep. It was around 8 p.m  that I realised  that a rough hand was touching my cheek and the voice was breaking. She was asking me to fill the water bottle from the next station. I did when the train stopped at the next station for two minutes unwillingly though as I had no reason to say no. Meanwhile I also cared for my luggage. Those two minutes were like hell. I came back thinking why the hell had I agreed. But everything was fine. I decided to stay away from her for I might lose some of my stuff in this social service. I developed a kind of animosity against her for no perfect reason.

It was around 9.15 p.m. the relaxing tone of the train tearing the wind was like that sweet song which brings relief and a perfect soothing environment to sleep. One of the reasons I slept early was to avoid the old “lady in the train”. Last time I checked my luggage and looked at her. She was covering a black n white blanket which seemed to be opened for the first time. I could even smell the fragrance which is generally there in the new clothes. That night was colder than I had thought. I had picked only a light blanket from my bag. I was shivering but was not conscious enough to take the second one from the bag.

Next day , I woke up to go for the private business. I was shocked for three reasons. First, the seat opposite to mine was empty. This was a relief though until I made the second observation .Second , now I was enveloped in that new black n white blanket and third , a note in my novel as I looked on my side. The note was not  a big surprise but the note written in English was definitely a big surprise. I felt small, very small. I felt guilty for my behaviour. Now I could not even think of compensating for my behaviour with today’s social service as she was gone. And the note in English will always remain a mystery.

About ME

WELCOME  friends!! 
THANK YOU for visiting the blog. :-)
Let me start with my introduction.
                                                      I am not a WRITER.
                                                      I am not a PHILOSOPHER. 
                                                      I am not an EXPERT(in any field)
                                                       
I AM A STUDENT just like you and everyone else. I am a student of Delhi University.I wish to be a life long student. Sometimes it is the safest thing to say :-p  
Besides, I have a burning desire to LEARN ....learn from my friends,  my classmates,my teachers, my parents and YOU. :-)
You will be my TEACHER and I shall be your DISCIPLE. 
A lot of my friends complain that I do not acccept others' point of view. I too somwhere  feel the same. so, here I am ....all set to TRANSFORM my VICES to VIRTUES. 
This blog is mainly dedicated to SHORT STORIES.I am not a professional writer but i love writing and sometimes only i understand my writings :-p but i will try not to let you feel the same. ;-)
 but I may post sometimes articles,personal experiences too. 
Your suggestions,advices, comments,compliments all is welcome. 
Your RESPONSE will be the most precious possession for me. :-)
Feel free to oppose me, contradict me, acknowledge me , rectify me (spellings and grammatical mistakes included) and 
criticize me because "friction not only opposes you but also gives you a balanced walk."
 you can also share your stories and experiences provided they are original 
and  u can also join me on facebook  karishmaavashishtha@facebook.com 

THANK YOU