Sweet Reminiscing

They sat with their shoulders touching and their knees bumping against each other. She smiled when he gently laced his fingers through her hair but her good mood faltered when she took a look at his face. He seemed distracted, his brows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled, his eyes unfocused.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I keep thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t been at that birthday party a year ago and drunk out of my mind. I would never have made a move to talk to you.” He glanced down at their joined hands.

“You wouldn’t have vomited all over my new shoes, either.” He laughed at the memory, remembering the embarrassment that had set his cheeks aflame as though it was yesterday. “Where would we be now if we hadn’t met there?”, he asked quietly. There was something about reminiscing that left a bitter aftertaste. Being nostalgic always came with the finality of knowing a situation had passed.

“How do we know what we missed out when we were at the wrong places with the wrong people? What if it was something wonderful, something life changing? Something we didn’t get to experience because we made the wrong decision?” She squeezed his hand and pressed her lips to his temple, quick and sweet.

“We don’t. And I think that’s what makes life so interesting and so beautiful!”

~S

Can you write?

​The first week of college.

New place, new faces, awkward first conversations, silent observations.

My college was known for providing a platform for students to express their ‘talents’.

We have many clubs; mainly the art circle, many more activities and a huge number of talented students.

We were asked to register for something called ‘The most promising artist’.

I thought why not give it a try. I enrolled in it.

Our seniors judged us on our communication skills and talent.

My communication skills are zero.

In the first round of the screening process, I was asked to give a creative introduction about myself followed by a talent round.

A lot of people acted, danced and performed songs. I wasn’t that kind of a person who’d enter a room and boom their greetings.

I somehow shaking finished my short intro.

“What’s your talent?” Someone from the judges asked.

“I can write”, I replied.

They didn’t seemed impressed.

“I write what I feel”, I continued.

I was interrupted, “Can you narrate a story?”

*Again, lack of communication skills*

“Uhh.. my stories are kind of big, but I’ll try to be brief.”

I was interrupted again, “We don’t have much time for such nonsense, do you have any other talents?”

“No,” I replied watching that Fender Guitar lying on the floor. I knew how to play a guitar but writing was my strength and I was quite tired playing Photograph by Ed Sheeran straight for weeks.

“Thank you. Who’s next?”

I felt dejected.

The list of students who were shortlisted for the next round was put up the next day. I wasn’t surprised when my name wasn’t there. There will be many occasions when your talent isn’t recognized.

There will be many times when you won’t receive the appreciation you deserve.

There will be many times when your voice won’t be heard.

You might have the greatest ideas.

You might have better stories to narrate.

You might be the most creative person in a crowd. It is incidents like these that teach you life lessons the hard way.

I felt terrible that day.

I went home and watched ‘The perks of being a wallflower’.

I honestly haven’t heard or watched anything that relatable.

Yes, I am that shy introvert guy who thinks twice before starting a conversation.

Yes I am that shy introvert who is dying to be heard but never gets heard. I would never be able to say this loud; hence I write.

But can you? Can you fucking write?

~S

Being an Introvert

It sometimes sucks, sitting alone in the corner of a room full of people.

Entering a class full of people where everyone saves their friend a seat but no one does that for you.

Being a laughing stock for that cool, glam group.

Sitting still in a place full of life and motion.

Being judged for your insecurities. Being judge for you weirdness. Being judge for your ‘over sensitivity’.

When you’re so easy to be forgotten when you’re so easy to replace when everyone moves on with new life except you.

Being an introvert sometimes leads to dark nights of noiseless cries and no sleep with that shy heart caged behind the bars of insecurity and fear.

Fear of everyone leaving.

Fear of being alone.

It’s okay to be afraid sometimes.

But in the end, you’re going to make it. It’s okay if those mean words affect you for long. You’re human, and it’s going to hurt, but you can ignore it, make it vanish sooner right?

Cherish what you have today.

Love the ones who love you, care for the people who care for you.

Be nice to all and don’t judge, because you know how it feels to be on the other end of the judging play.

Don’t let anyone make you forget that you’re a treasure, that deep, loving, attached, trustable and helping person.

You rainbow sprinkled sparkling ray of sunshine; you deserve happiness more than anyone else, don’t let it fly away.

~S

You’re my Lobster

“Why do you love me? I am so selfish, so irritating. What do I have that other girls don’t?” She said while wiping that tear which came rolling down her eye.

One : You never fail to make me smile. When I see you, I can already feel the heat rising to my full cheeks as my lips begin to widen into a grin. Simply hearing the first syllable of your name makes my body temperature increase and my heart begins to race. My smile is brighter than a million suns when I’m with you.
Two : You’ve seen me at my absolute worst, yet you always stayed. I’ve cried at you, and I’ve cried with you, but you never leave. I have came home screaming at you and destroying everything in my path, yet it’s as if you’re a prisoner in my little world that voluntarily decides to stay. It makes me realize that you really are a special person considering that you have never betrayed me even with my hideous faults.
Three : You care about me more than I care about myself. You always send me text messages that are reminding me to eat. When we see each other each morning you ask me if I had gotten enough sleep the night before. If I look at you and my eyes aren’t sparkling with the fireworks of life like they usually do, you won’t stop talking to me until you figure out a way to make me feel better. Sometimes when you know that there’s no real solution to fix the emotions that I’m having at the moment, you’ll just wrap me in your arms to the point where I can hear your heart pounding from your chest. There’s an abundance of traits about you that make you constantly on my mind. These were the first three, but trust me; there are plenty more.
She looked into my eyes and in a moment she hugged me nice and warm. I was about to leave she whispered in my ear, “Darling I’m so blessed to have you. You’re my lobster!”

~S

Love : A forbidden fruit ❤

“The last time we were here, you told me that you’d always love me. You would always love me, as long as this.” I placed my hand over my heart.

I worked up the nerve, taking a chance and sliding my hand into hers.

“My heart hasn’t changed. I’m still that girl you fell in love with. I just lost my way, and I’m going to fight like hell to find my way back.”

“You’ve been through so much…” she started, but I interrupted.

“Okay, so I’m not the same girl. Not even close. But my heart is the same heart.” I lifted her hand to my chest and held it there under mine.

“See, it still beats so fast whenever you touch me. It’s still yours. If… you still want it.” I tried to hold back the tears, but they fell anyway. I had never been so scared, waiting on her reply.

She wiped away a tear of her own.

“Of course, I still want it. I’m here, aren’t I?” Her lips trembled and I didn’t stop myself from reaching over and pulling her into my arms. I closed my eyes as I held her tight. Not missing the soft sobs that were coming from her mouth as she held me even tighter.

“I missed you so much”, she whispered.

“I know, and I’m sorry, baby.” I kissed her head then she pulled away to look at me. “I miss you too, so much.”

Her hand reached up and caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes at her warm and soothing touch. She always had a way of calming me with only a look, a few kind words, the softness of her fingertips.

“You haven’t lost me. I’m right here, where I’ve always been. I’ve been here waiting for you. I just didn’t think it would take this long. You’ve came a long way, and, I know you’ll find your way back.”

“Will you help me?” My voice cracked as the words quietly came out.

She looked straight into my eyes, a look so alluring, yet serious.

“I’ll always help you find you way back home.”

~  S

Journey of Love ❤

Slowly, piece by piece, I gave myself to you. Being a self centered, dressed with hope and happiness, you accepted me.

I felt safe around you. I would often used to say I feel like a superhero when you were around me. Remember? Holding your hand, resting my head on your shoulder, it gave me the comfort I always dreamt of.

What you and I shared, the walks, the never ending kisses, adorable things, and clichéd. Somewhere, they meant a world to both of us.

Have you ever heard me cry? How my voice breaks? Yet I make jokes and laugh as if nothing is wrong. Have you ever noticed? How I never meet your eyes. Because eyes never lie. How I keep smiling even when telling something that’s not even happy. When I say my face is always like this “smiling happily.” How I close my eyes for a bit too long.

I was lucky, you know? To have a lifetime, squeezed in those days I spent. I know you asked me, “You loved me more than I loved you.” And I so badly wish I had an answer to it. And I don’t trust love anymore. How can I? It is something that is there one second, alive and spreading happiness and the other, it just fades away. Absent. Gone. Taking away all those happy moments. Happiness.

We all have a certain story that we do not share out loud because we are afraid that nostalgia will come in series of waves and drown us. We all know a familiar voice that is slowly fleeting into oblivion but we always hear it when their favourite song plays on the radio.

Stretch the curve on your face to it’s end, life will automatically have fewer questions, the calmness in your heart will resonate throughout. This is the journey of love, my dear. If this is not enough then what is?

Happy Sunday!

~ S

Ten digit phone number

My ringtone dragged me out of sleep. Squinting, I try to see past the burning brightness of my phone.

As my tired brain tried to make out the ten digits, I was mentally cursing the person who’d call me this late at night.

“Hello,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“Hey, did I wake you?” asked a husky voice. I immediately jolted up, not because of its sexy deep tone, but because  I knew it all too well.

It was the voice with whom I’d spent hours on the phone.

It was her voice.

“I know it’s late. But are you free?” she asked.

“Uh..uh.. yeah sure,” I stammered.

It had been weeks since we’d spoken.

Apparently, exes can’t be friends.

“I am aware it’s been long, but I need to talk to you,” she said.

Those words immediately brought a smile to my face.

Had she thinking about me?

The butterflies came back to life in my stomach.

“I know it’s selfish of me to talk to you about this, but I didn’t know who else to go.”

I was confused now.

What is she talking?

“There’s this boy.”

My heart sunk.

“He’s so different. Really different. He makes me want to be a better person. He’s so strong, I mean after everything he’s been through he’s still so happy. He inspires me.”

Her excited voice continued speaking, but I couldn’t hear anymore. It’s like my brain stopped trying to understand what she was saying.

My throat went dry, and my vision started to go blur.

“You there?” she asked, just now noticing that I hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Yeah,” I replied, struggling to hide my shaky voice. She continued, and it hurt knowing that she didn’t realize that I was crying.

I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d done wrong. Why couldn’t I be that boy for her?

My eyes were stinging now.

And suddenly it hit me.

Just because she was the love of my life, doesn’t mean I was hers.

With a heavy heart, but a smile on my face, I wish for a happy ending this time, even if the love story wasn’t mine.

It is said that between two people there is always someone who loves more and most of times it is the same person who notices the end before it comes. It feels suicidal to go beyond reason and still hope that it might get better, that the love may stay, that it has to be a way to fix everything. Yet the heart still breaks, the heart still beats, the heart still cracks but it still beats.

What an ironic way of loving in and out of mind, of love, of heart. How can we love more, give more, lose more and be our own hero when our heart doesn’t belong to us anymore? How can we be the one who see the end when forever is all we hope?

~S