Ever imagined
how a meeting between two people of complimentary characters would look like.
The first thought of it reminds me of a concept of barter system from my
economics lectures of class 10 which is a condition in which you exactly have
the same thing that I am in need of and vice versa, and so we readily exchange
our commodities to make life better for both of us. So this is all the theory
section of what I chose to write this Saturday night, and a practical life of
this sort would be more than just ecstatically beautiful to imagine if not to
see..!! But guess what, I just saw one
:P
There is a guy I know and we have been
friends since always. I have known him for half my life span (that is exactly
for how long I have known myself to the core) and so in a corner of my mind I believe no one
on earth knows him better than I do. There are no life savoring moments
attached with both of us in a frame, there is no meeting that I would recall
when I grow old and there is no incident of tormenting pain in his life that I
pulled him out of. But having said that, I still believe there is no one whom I
know better than him. I haven't followed him like his shadows and still for
reasons that will stand illogical to this rational universe, i have known him
just as much as you know your self.
He is a writer and that is first of the
many reasons he appeals attention. Al l that I have known of the art of writing
and reading and of all the literature that I have read, is credited to him and
him alone. Also all the stereotype conclusions that I have framed in my mind
about writers are to his credit as well. The introvert nature, self sufficed,
keeping up to yourself, spending time thinking as trash as nothing and all of a
sudden making a worldly sense out of it, the admiration for nature, all the old
school habits of an orthodox writer, and waiting for that one perfect idea to
strike your mind and waiting for it as much as a photographer waits for a
perfect shot near that sea shore untill dusk, reading in your dark room under
the light of candle, finding solace in dark and being friends with your
singularity (loneliness sounds unhappy) This is him but I have always assumed
that’s how every writer in the world is, no offence, he just came across so
natural that way, he never looked like a freak to me, or may be I haven't met
any other writer in the world.
Also it is his taste that struck me to the
core. He writes romance, and the only kind of romance he writes is the
unrequited one. There is no heartbreaking story attached to him and I am not
aware of any hint of tormenting past to his credit, and so I safely assume
that’s the only air he breathes. May be that is just the kind of genre that
comforts him- the kinds in which you are the guy all sinked in love with a girl
even when you know no path in her world will
ever walk her to your door and that she would never find any of those uncounted
letters you never posted, letters about
confessing how she has been all over your mind since the first sight and how
world was a better place even with the longing that wouldn’t end even if for
once the world does. And so I reckon it is only because now you are friends
with that ignorance that you dare to
collect the audacity to encrypt those three magical words on the back of your
notebook when no one is watching you. You just don’t tend to quit. Actually
quit isnt the word, for you aint fighting a battle, you are in love…unrequited
though, but that’s still love. --- this
is the kind of characters he loves portraying with his pen. Make no mistake, he
is not the guy who is wounded off a heartbreak, he is not a guy left alone
because she likes someone else,its just that the character he pens down is just in love with no *conditions apply*
written in the clause already. He has only loved and never looked beyond it for
outcomes and there are no qualms in loving them enough even when you know they
don’t love you back. Its not painful, its beautiful. Ask him. Or the character
in his story. He is probably more happy than you are with your girlfriend,
because he knows she wont hurt her, not anymore. HE is the kind of love you
pray for when you sight a shooting star, this is the only form of love you wish
to get back in return of all the prayers you made. He is the kinds why people want to fall for a
writer- such is the taste of his characters. ( yes, differentiating “him” and “his
characters” is annoyingly temptingly)
And then there is a girl in the picture
too…!! Yes, and a heartbroken girl, who probably never knew what it is to be
loved or being wanted. Of all the love she shovered on his guy, the only guy in
his entire world, all that she got back was ignorance. No one ever made efforts
to make her feel special, not because she wasn’t beautiful or lacked looks to
die on. Indeed every girl is beautiful,
in her own ways, only that they don’t get the right guy to acknowledge it without
any foul intention. Sometimes staying up in a relation and ripping yourself
apart on the worth of your esteem isnt justified, but the other times,
expecting to be loved back for loving your heart out to someone even after
accepting ruthless ignorance for an eternity
isnt wrong either. Everyone in the
world wants to be loved, everyone. Even a criminal wants to be felt wanted, no? but when your eyes are
used to looking moistured and rheumatic, it is the darkness that you choose to
embrace because then that happens to be the only place where your wounds find
solace probably because that’s where know one knows you are still in tears and
shattered. There is a reason why
ignorance and darkness are best friends, and not always adorable. It is only fair to people tormented by the
pain of love to be more eloquent to darkness. The only reason why she sucked
air in and breathed out was for that little hint of her guy to see through her
heart and come back to whisper in her ears, “I love you back”. If only he could acknowledge how much she
loved him, what on earth wasnt inevitable for fate.
And
then..one day life decides to turn generous to both of them…HIM and HER. One
day she decides to speak her heart out in form of a social media status and the
very same day it comes into his notice. No wonder it was appealing and so the
next thing he does is find her, stalks her enough for days, read stuffs about
her and then finally decides to interact with her. Every interaction only makes
it look like its been ages since their last meeting, and so just like a get
together after a long gap, things unfold with no holds barred. No one knows
when both of them believs the other one knows them better than the world knew
them. They finally plan a meeting online
and its more like a rendezvous planned just to get to know wach other clear
because enough is being conveyed without words, conclusions made up and
impressions imprinted clear enough never to fade as long as pigs start flying.
There is a thrashold that’s yet to be crossed, impressions framed about each
other yet to be verified and acknowledged, binding heap of emotions to be cross
checked, yet to be unfolded, and a subtle dream or say hope, you know about
what yet to breathe life. And after it ends, he only feels gifted to have found
her. There is no limit to that ecstacy and cloud 9 never felt so small to use for
words of conquering delight, because it is only epic for a writer to find a life that only personifies all that he
penned down in his compositions. This is just as delightful as a
painter finding a face that resembles his painting. It was basically a rendezvous planned with no
prescribed dialogues and of the few moments in life where silence is more
eloquent than any other form of expression, this was one. He was the listener and she was the one who
spoke her heart out to him, first time to someone other than the darkness
around her. She was honest enough to confess, she was never loved back. And
trust me, for someone who has loved a certain someone more than a life, it is
the toughest thing to admit. When you are
a fight till you die or win, a defeat is way more torturing than death would
ever be, and such was her confession. Sympathy isnt the word to strike,
agony is. There is nothing adorable about her ex, nothing impressive and no
reason to sense why she held on, except one, that she loved her. Fair enough?
He almost feels like she is leaned onto his shoulders and for a reason unknown
to him, he feels equally tormented by the pain in her life. A part of him, that
composed those unrequited characters wants to introspect the conscience if his
characters ever felt the same when never loved back again. A part of him wants
to break off that *conditions appply* clause that barred him to never encounter
these emotions. She is also more eloquent because he is probably the first one
who ever cared to listen him through the night.
And that night, he was like the first drop of rain for someone whose
life in a word was desert. And this is
the kind of night you never want to meet the dawn.
It doesn’t take time for both of them to realise that
suddenly they are habitual to each other. He is all that she lacked in her
life, a dimension that she was always in need of and never got. All her tears are replaced by the blushing
cheeks, rheumatic eyes are replaced by a mascara that doesn’t fade in the night
because reasons to cry have started to seize, “why me’s” have been replaced by
“feeling special with you” and ‘life is hell’ is now of late being erased from
her fb wall. It’s a “found a new life and ‘em luvin it” trending now. It’s a world that she was never offered and she
never imagined life to be so generous to her. And for him, she was a face to all that he had
composed in his works late in those solitary dark nights. There is a colossal
sense of telepathy that develops when you meet someone who is a picture on
canvass to all the thoughts you build up for a certain someone, and so before
you say things, you know that they have acknowledged the unspoken words. But
still what isnt done is crossing that threshold, the one that has binded them
to their past, he with his works and she with the torture of a breakup
aftermath. Not every perfect thing that looks adorable is that easy to accept,
not atleast if the last experience of the same kind shattered you in pieces. So
every time she thinks she is driven towards her inexplicably, she decides to
hold her breathes tight, sometimes she is reminded of the time she had spent
collecting all the broken pieces of her. There is still that flavour of the
lost love in it, but she wants to move on. There is a hope she has found, and
may be forcibly, but she wants to move on. Yes now..!! And a thought of this
new guy makes pain go away like it never was. But she doesn’t resist it for too
long and decides to let loose on him and tells him all that she has started to
feel. God knows if she is honest or emotionally driven, but to him, its like a
dream longingly awaited and it was inevitablew for him to accept it. This is
how life happens to the most of us. It takes turn when you almost believe it is
screwed up like it was for the girl. This is still a virtual conversation
though where they are still to look at each other eye to eye in the physical
world. As time travels on its wheels, things seems to be going a pinch more
perfect than one could imagine in the fairy tales. But this wasn’t to be,
because perfection and romance doesn’t click together too often.
If your life can
take a turn once in a while and take you to cloud 9, do not expect it to let
you stay there or that it can not take a turn again…because, actually, it does.
One of those evening, she finds the guy who broke her heart on his knees pleading
her to come back to his life. Reasons are unknown, it might be the
introspection, or missing what used to be there for granted or simply missing
the privileged action that he was getting back then. For a tenacious boyfriend
you broke up with, its too easy to convince his ex, atleast if he was her first
love. No matter how much he has acted foul with her, no matter how unfair he had
been, no matter how much hatred he deserves and no matter if she moved on with
the better guy, he doesn’t fail to convince her….and?
And what? She
decides to go back to him. Without giving a second thought, to the second life
she began in a\n almost perfection fashion, to the new life that just began
with no trace of tears in it even when what is offered to her would be full of
it again, and to all that she was subjected to when the last time she made his
ex his choice. But this is the thing with love, this has always been, it is the
imperfect ion that flavors love, it is the tragedy that adds leurels to love.
Even if its not ideally adorable but this is what happens. I don’t know who
said it, but he was very apt quoting ‘life is a great leveller my friends, if
there is something bad you went through, you will have your share of good time
too…..and vice versa as well.
She again goes
back to the life she was in for the recent past of her life. Not that it is quite
a fairy tale now, or that her ex has found ways to keep her smiling now, it
isnt magical to feel for her, its still the ignorance that she embraces in the
night and sleeps and wakes up with moistured eyes, nothing has changed. But she
still wants to stay there, why? Is she blind or numb? God knows, but what I am
sure of, is she is still in love, blindly yes, foolishly, yess…but still in
love. she is still in the hope, because above all the torture and denials and
ignorance you face in your relationship, you know your imperfect guy is the
only thing that holds the way to your life savoring smile.. This is perhaps
the only reason I find behind people not moving on even when they have a better
world offered to them, even when they have a better guy waiting for them, and
even when they could choose perfection.
And for HIM,
nothing is changed. He is still the guy I know, with no drastic change in his
life. I wonder if he is in pain and just hiding it behind his subtle profile,
or just rejoicing because it happened. I guess the later one. In fact his life’s got a ring to it now, I
told you his flavor was unrequited romance, and when life gives you a
experience of it first hand, you can not be enough thankful to it. There is a
difference between imagining unrequited romance and experiencing it. With the
experience, it will only add beauty to his works to follow. And now that he has
been a character from his works, he is bound not to love what he writes. Remember, sufferings are to a writer what
rain is to people in love. And I am
still a fan of the writer. I know him better, better than anyone else. No sympathies, I am just eager to know what
he writes next, because it is inevitable that he will find his reflection I the
next thing he writes.
Fingers
crossed..!!
