Rendezvous

                                                                            

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..!!