Of Fantasies and Fantods

Too long to post it here. The story lies at Him, and Me.

Two people
Two different genders
Two different ages
One night
One place
Cupid

"Tarun, what's the matter? Is anything wrong? You sounded as if in a hurry over the phone. You said you wanted to see me immediately. Is everything ok?"

She sat down beside him in the park bench with a concerned look on her face. He was staring blankly at the grass in front of him. He turned to look at her. She was expecting a teary pair of eyes; but his eyes were clear; sharp like they'd always been; and they were staring at her. He didn't look upset; he was angry.

"Ta.. Tarun, are you ok? Did you get into a fight or something?"

"Not yet; but I'm going to"

"You.. you're going to get into a fight? With whom?"

"With you Tara, we have scores to settle"

"What? What do you mean scores to settle? What did I do to make you angry??" Her face showed fear in addition to the shock.

"I don't know where to start, and how to proceed. But while I talk, I want you to shut up, and answer only when I ask you to"

"What?? I don't understand.. Why should ..."

"I said SHUT UP"

A heavy silence followed. It was Tarun who started talking

"What do you do before you go to sleep? Don't answer. I usually think of the things I did during the day, and things that I had to do the following day, as I lie down in my bed waiting for sleep to take over. I know that you know this. But there's something that you don't.

Every night, just the moment I finish with the routine, someone comes to my mind, you. Do you know how it feels like to be haunted by the memories of all the conversations, of the times spent together, present and past, and sometimes even the imagination of the future, with just one person, over and over again, every night, every single night of your life?

No, don't talk.

Sleepless nights, and you are the reason. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do, is check my mobile phone for any sms-es or calls from you; those sweet sms-es you send, I know they are just forwards, and that you send them to everyone you know. But still, to me, it is more like a warm note from you, note that you remember me, that you want to wish me a good day. I know it is being a little immature.

Every time I watch something on TV that makes me happy, I think of you.

Every time I watch something sad, I long for your company.

Every time my favourite team wins in soccer, I wish you were there beside me, to rejoice the victory together.

Every time I cross a level in my video game, you are the one that I want to shout out to.

Every time argue with my parents, I remember asking you not to argue with yours.

Every time I see a toddler, I remember you, and how much you love your nephew.

I read a book, and something that you said in the past comes to my mind.

I enter the kitchen and look at my dinner, and I remember you saying that you liked it.

I listen to some song, and your dislike for the song comes to my mind.

I go to the temple, and close my eyes, I find myself praying that your wishes get fulfilled.

I go shopping with my mom, I see the exhibit in the showroom, and I find myself thinking how you'd look in that outfit.

During the days we don't talk, I sit wondering what you'd be doing at that hour; I wonder whether you were thinking of me too.

The other day, my brother, you know he is crazy about that astrological stuff, he was reading some forecast, and I just peeked in. I read mine, there was nothing special. And then there was yours. It read 'A casual acquaintance with the opposite sex may lead to a full fledged love affair'. I got shocked and worried first. Then I realised something. That I was a casual acquaintance too. And I didn't know what to do.

I don't know what this is about. But I know that you have ruined the peace of my mind; I keep my eyes wide open or shut them close, you are still there. You are always there, either in person or in my own imagination, every freaking moment of my life. And I hate this feeling.

We have known each other for such a long while; we have become a part of each other's life; you have always said that there is some sort of a bonding between us, though we're only friends. But all this.. all this makes me wonder..

Tara, am I in love with you?"

*************************************************************************************

"Cut! Cut!" The director called out. There was a huge applause from the troupe.

"Excellent performance!! You are going to be the hero of the masses. Each fan is going to change his name to Tarun. Brilliant brilliant!!" The director addressed the hero of his movie, the one who had brought out his dialogue so very well.

The Assisstant director walked towards the script writer and asked "Say madam, how could you come up with such an emotional dialogue? It sounded so original, like you placed yourself in his shoes, and went through all this. I have no words to describe how it was. I have seen this piece rehearsed over and over; yet today when the actor delivered it in front of the camera, I was moved.. It felt.. it felt so complete. Great job madam. You'll go places." The script writer thanked him with a smile and approached the hero.

Several members of the troupe congratulated the hero. Silently, the script writer moved towards him; looked up at him, with the joy and pride of a mother. He smiled at her. She shook his hand in a firm shake, looked into his eyes, and whispered

"Thank you"

The hero stood puzzled why this woman had to thank him; even if his delivery of her dialogue was good, she should have congratulated him. But he was soon distracted by the director's calls.

Behind the camera, the writer who had come just to see this part of the movie shoot, moved towards her car, quickened her pace to get out of the sight of the crew members, lest someone see her eyes, that were now soaked.

I knew she was there inside the room; I could sense her presence. She would be hiding somewhere under the desk or behind the pile of clothes in my room; my room's pretty untidy. I don't have to search for her; she'd come to me on her own. I am too tired and lazy to get up and switch on the lights. Even if I do, she would only recede into hiding again. I'll wait lying on my bed. When she approaches me, I'll catch her red-handed.

The baffling thing is how she managed to enter the house in spite of mom's efforts to keep her away from our home. I didn't mind her presence; but mom detested it totally. Mom wanted her little boy left untouched. It is funny that my mom still calls me her "little boy". I have finished my schooling and am going to join college in another month or so. But I had gotten used to it; I have asked her not to call me a little boy in front of my friends; just that.

I could see her approaching me, the faint light from outside helped. I am going to pretend as if I am asleep. She is hiding behind that big mound of books right now. I haven't cleaned my room till now. Exams got over long ago; and yet I haven't. Mom wants me to clean it asap so that she will not have any place to hide in my room. I have been putting it off until now. Maybe I should ask mom to clean it for me.

What is she doing at my footstep? Now I can't catch her without scaring her away. I'll wait till she comes further up. Yeah, she's coming up. She paused around my right hand for a few seconds and then came straight to my face. Now I could even hear her. She was looking between my right and left cheeks. This is the right time.

'Gotcha!!' I held her between the palm of my two hands. I sneered at her and whack! 'Die you filthy little beast' I laughed inside like the villains in hindi movies. I look at my hand. My! It is indeed red. I'd caught her red-handed. I will have to wash my hands now. I threw her lifeless body out of the window and went towards the bathroom.

I should ask mom to get a better mosquito repellent tomorrow. All these female mosquitoes cause Malaria, Dengue and what not? Who wants to fall sick?

It was 7.30 pm. He'd have left office by now. She was restless. The last time he talked to her was 8 am in the morning, after he reached office; and that too not for long. Before that, it was last tuesday; oh or was it monday? Had it been any other day, she wouldn't have felt this restless; it was her birthday today. She was hoping he'd come over to her place and that they could have a silent evening together. It had been months since they ever spent time together. He had lots of work to do in office. He didn't have time for her. She doubted if the former was the reason for the latter; or the other way round.

But when he'd answered, he said he wouldn't be leaving office before 7, and that there was no way he could make it to her place that evening. He said that he'll try to leave office early that sunday, and maybe take her out. She wasn't positive. He had made many such promises before. Only he seemed to be too tired on sunday evenings to meet her. She thought she was in someway the reason for all this. She wanted to be sure. She called another number as soon as he hung the call.

He reached home at 8. The living room was dark. His flatmate was somewhere inside. He switched on the lights. The room appeared clean; cleaner than usual. The maid they had arranged swept the floor everyday; but today everything on and above the floor seemed orderly; neatly arranged. Suspiciously, he stepped by the kitchen; his suspicion only grew, for a sweet smell hung around. He didn't enter the kitchen; he never did without washing his hands and legs. He called out to his roommate "Dude! What's special today? The entire house has a festive look compared to our daily living standards??" and turned around.

"It's my birthday today" She was standing there, in front of him, holding a chunk of chocolate cake with white frostings, in her hand, and a wide grin, that of a child, in her face. He liked chocolate cakes, and so did she. He was surprised; taken aback; he had not expected her. His roommate stood grinning behind her. He was gonna shout at her for having come there after dark when he noticed the look on her face; a hint of joy, joy of seeing him after a long time; of mischief, like she was playing with him; and along with that a hint of plea, plea to him. His anger vanished. Instead, he chuckled and placed his hands on her shoulder and said "You naughty little idiot!! Come on, let's cut the cake. I'm hungry"

The cake was not too big; but more than sufficient for the three of them, for her, him and his roommate. She cut the cake into three equal portions, as his roommate sang "happy birthday to you..". Out of one of the portions, she cut a much smaller piece, and like in most birthday parties, raised it to his mouth. He munched on it, and then bent to take the full piece. He didn't give it to her; he just raised it to his mouth. He was about to take a bite when he glanced at the eager expectant face in front of him.

Swoosh!! He smeared it over her face and stuffed what was left into her mouth. "Here you go, birthday baby" Now it was her; she was surprised; and taken aback. He looked like all the tiredness of his face got mysteriously washed away; he was there; right in front of her; after a long time; with a face that winked while it smiled; the smile that she thought she'd never see again; he looked younger, the look on his face that said it was all going to be alright; everything was going to fall in place; just like old days. She stood looking at him, her eyes locked in his, as if she were deriving strength from that look.

"Guys guys, enough of your romance. I have taken my share. Her share is here on the plate. What are you going to do?" His roommate broke their moment and asked him.

"What am I going to do?? About what?" He asked his roommate.

"The cake of course, you dork. Oh I know what you'll do. You're going to do what a dog usually does. I'd better leave to my room. Why spoil your privacy" His roommate winked and vacated the place.

The chocolate on her face provided a shield; they couldn't see her face turn red.

"Come on. Go wash your face" he directed her towards the bathroom. When she got back, he had neatly halved the remaining portion of the cake.

He rose from the couch, and came to her. He gently drew her close to him, and whispered into her ear "Happy birthday. I love you"

Their eyes locked; soon did their hands; their lips followed.

“You think I can make it?” She asked playing with the sand in front of her. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

They sat cuddled up with him enveloping her with his arms from behind. They were at the beach, looking at the waves. This was their favourite place; sufficiently away from the various stalls so that they won’t be disturbed, and close enough so that they weren’t in the dark. They did not like hiding behind the boats like the other couples did. There they sat everyday, from a little before sunset to well after it. They liked watching the sun disappear slowly into the sea; the waves that hit the shore; the vendors calling out the names of their products; young couples giggling and blushing; older couples taking a walk; the middle-aged ones chasing and chased by their children; and the little kids running here and there.

They spoke little, if anything at all. They seldom played with the water. They were there, content with each other’s presence; that was all that mattered to them. If one of them was late, the other would just sit there, in a manner of reserving the place, their place. And then the other one would just come and join. There would be no drama, of welcome; or no quarrels, for the delay. Occasionally when either of them was too happy, they’d just brush their lips on the other’s cheek; and if perturbed, they’d just hold hands. When they were together, they felt a sense of quiet; serene and peaceful. But today, they did not.

“Make it? You’ll do great!!” He said, mustering all the enthusiasm he could bring out. She tilted her head to look at him. Looking at his eyes, which spoke more than his words, she knew he was telling the truth; only the eyes couldn’t feign the spirit his voice did. She threw her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat, holding each other for a long time. It was time to leave. She kissed his cheek and got up.

Neither of them uttered a word as they moved toward the road. When it was time to part, they hugged again. It was she who spoke first. Looking into his eyes, she said:

“Do come to the reception. I don’t have a photo in which we stand together, you by my side”

He said, with a genuine smile on his face with a pair of eyes that expressed pain.

“Sure, I will”

The stories I wrote before I started this blog.

The Castle

The Ring

Unbound

Hi folks! This is going to be my blog space for the stories I scribble. I had this in mind for quite sometime, but hey I gotta prove my name.

And regarding the number 6; I owe this blog to Venus.

Caution: Be it this blog or any other, try not to associate the content of posts with the blogger, in case you know them personally. It'd spoil the very charm of the post.