Seasons may change for the globe but it always rains in my world. And where there is rain... there is a story!
Friday, 23 December 2011
Soul Mate
Sunday, 20 November 2011
7 years later
Zeenia picked up her luggage and was waiting on the railway platform with anticipation. Three months in a different city had made her home sick. She loved travelling, yet, this time she felt a need to return to her roots.
A strong gust of wind hit her face as the train stormed into the platform. Clambering her luggage, she ran unsteadily towards her compartment as the entire platform became a flurry of activity. The cool air of the air conditioner was a welcome relief to the dry heat that was so common of the city she was leaving behind. Pushing past people, she located her seat and began adjusting her luggage. Settling down in a bustling compartment she gazed outside the stained glass window noting that the train would start in about 5 minutes. Everybody seemed to have settled in.
As the train pulled out of the station she allowed her mind to wander. The last three months had been a whirlwind. Her book had become an overnight best-seller and she had spent majority of time giving seminars in the University or featuring on TV shows. Her dream was a reality, yet now she was finally going home.
The old lady sitting next to her simpered trying to establish a conversation. She turned her attention towards her and smiled automatically. A few minutes of communication brought light to the fact that her grandson had obtained another seat in a compartment for two and would she, Zeenia, mind switching with him?
It would have been beyond blasphemous to refuse this request to the family audience in that compartment hence she complied and moved her luggage out.
She came by the compartment and noted that her co passenger had taken a detour somewhere while their luggage lay scattered on both the seats. Roughly piling it on one side, she quickly arranged her bags under the the seat, and fished her phone out of her bag to update her bestfriend of the latest happenings.
His voice reached her before she could even see him. Footsteps accompanied with a humming of a song. She startled and looked ahead as she finally saw whom she was sharing her compartment with.
"Jawwad!"
"Zeenia!" he said stopping in his tracks, "What a surprise!"
They shook hands as the train lurched into another station. He settled opposite her. His expression somewhere between disbelief and happiness. She suspected her face reflected his. Suddenly the entire world around them had become a non entity. Awkward glances leading to awkward questions. Soon laughter and familiarity sunk in.
The next hour was spent in nostalgia as they recollected the years spent together, discussed mutual friends and enquired after each others families. They spoke about everything under the sky except what mattered the most.
"So Zeenia!" said Jawwad settling into his seat comfortably, "28 and author of a best selling novel! You didn't surprise anyone there!"
He handed her a cup of coffee from the vendor and she felt herself blush at his compliment.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Have you read it yet?" she asked expectantly.
"What do you think?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"I don't know what to think." she muttered, "The Jawwad I knew back then would have read it, this Jawwad is new to me."
A dark look crossed his face momentarily before he said "He wouldn't be if you had bothered to be in touch."
Silence hung between them. He had finally touched on the conversation that she had been religiously avoiding. Yet the moment had to pass.
She caught her breath but then proceeded to ask, "I am sorry, but I don't know what are you doing now." She had a perfect idea of what he did and the incredulous look on his face clarified that he knew that she knew.
"Do you feel even a shred of guilt that you didn't bother to keep a track of me like I bothered keeping of you?" he teased.
"I am sorry." she said testily determined to not fall for that, "So what is it that you do?"
"The same thing I always wanted to do." he said playfully.
"Would I have seen or heard any of your work?" she asked playing along.
"I doubt it. I have moved my base to the city of my dreams." he said.
"You had changed your mind about that city as far as I can remember."
"It is change of heart that matters. And now I am finally there."
"Like you always wanted to be." she smiled.
The next few minutes were spent discussing his career but she couldn't contain herself and ended up asking, "Why didn't you read my book?"
"I believe It was you who promised me the first signed copy of any novel you write!" he retorted.
"That was 7 years back! I wasn't even sure if I would ever publish a book back then. And how could I give you the signed copies when I didn't know where you were"
"Promises are promises." he said stubbornly.
"There were only five signed copies. The publishers gave them away in some contest or something." she said sadly.
"Then you can hardly complain!" he said with mock anger.
"Jawwad---"
"I must go have a smoke." he said laughing at her angry glares.
He was gone a few minutes when she got up to take out her family album to show it to him. As she rummaged for her bags, her hand accidently knocked his bag pack which fell to the floor spilling out the contents.
She bent down to scoop his possessions and froze;
-- In there were five copies of her book and her heart knew even before she opened each that they were all signed copies!
Disclaimer: The character names (Jawwad and Zeenia) bear resemblance to the lead in Pakistani Drama "Malal". Yet the story is mine and so are the journeys of the characters.
Monday, 24 October 2011
His Voice
Sunday, 16 October 2011
There is something about Mohit Chauhan....
Who would have thought that the whimsical voice of my childhood memory of the song "Dooba Dooba" would one day become a full blown love affair with the man in the picture-- Mohit Chauhan! Saturday, 8 October 2011
Small Something...
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Not so New Girl in the City
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Rain doesn't fall forever...
Tiny translucent drops glaze the windows
The rain falls steadily as they gaze out
Together for the last time tonight
Smiling at the disappearance of the last sunlight
Two mugs of coffee turning cold
Fingers inches apart yet they don’t hold
The tension lies thick in the air
Mingled with longing and care
He traces her face to commit to memory
For there will be no photos to prove this theory
That they had loved and lost each other the same night
The world had torn them apart with all its might
She would have destroyed the world had he wanted the same
Yet what was to speak of a relationship that had no name?
She stirs her coffee aimlessly without meaning to drink
Their journey together had come to its brink
Tomorrow she would leave and never be back
He had come to bid her his final goodbye
Wanting to comfort her and take all the blame
Yet how could he make her stop without a claim?
They rose with their coffee mugs and emptied them in the sink
Laughing they closed the distance within as he held her in his arms
Reveling in the companionship for one last time
Before they would be separated by the society’s norms
It was with smiles that they drew apart
She went into her room and plopped into the bed
He sat by the fire place his eyes red
He promised he’d be gone before she would wake
She knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink whatever it takes
And sure enough at sun break she stood by her window
Watched him walk ahead into the meadows
He glanced back one last time, his eyes shining
She waved with finality and watched him disappear into the lining….
Sunday, 11 September 2011
1. Rainy Reunion
Leaning against the thin pole of the shed he closed his eyes. The loud pattering of the drops hitting the metal roof engulfed him. Swearing, he let his mind wander. The smell of the wet soil filled his senses bringing back her words, "I love the smell of the rain." "It is the most romantic smell ever!" she often said.
How could a smell ever be romantic? He often wondered.
Smiling to himself he remembered how she never spoke much sense. Not that she wasn't intelligent, she enjoyed-- he abruptly jerked.
He couldn't afford to think of her. Running his hand over his hair he kicked the tyre of his bike again.
Her thoughts were not easy to suppress!
***
She stood by her window watching the swift raindrops hit the puddle below. The whooshing wind had glazed the glass pane, she raised her hand to wipe it but ended up tracing his name instead.
Sighing she walked away from the window and sat down by her table. She loved dancing in the rain, smelling the fragrance of the vibrant and alive earth. She heard the door slam. It was her sister. She walked into the room drenched from head to toe.
"You missed it! The weather outside is awesome." she said lightly shaking the droplets out of her hair.
"I was not in a mood to get drenched." she said dismissively walking out the room.
"You are hardly in a mood to do anything nowadays." she heard her sister grumble.
She walked angrily ahead. How could she have not gone out in the rain? This never happened before. He hated the rain but she didn't. He hated a lot of things she conceded and came to a sudden halt.
With a shock of realization she remembered that she had traced his name on the window. What if her sister saw it?
Running back towards the room she flung the door open and rushed to the window. His name had faded into the mist. Just as he had faded from her life.
Tears welled in her eyes as she sank by the window.
***
The rain refused to stop. He took out his cellphone from his front pocket and with a gasp of horror realised that water had seeped into it. It did not need a genius to ascertain that it would never work again. He never hated the rain more.
"You hate the rain?" she had glared.
"Yes."
"You know nothing about happiness." she had said in a mock angry tone.
How little did they ever agree on. Yet when they did agree... it was Magical!
That is how they had ended the magic. Neither of them said it but they both understood and went their separate ways. Beyond the magic they knew that they were never meant to be. As an unspoken promise they never allowed the old familiarity to sink in.
The façade was on.
Coming back into present, he wondered if she was enjoying the rain somewhere. It would be just so like her to enjoy the droplets wash over her face and onto her outstretched hands.
He knew that she must be just as preoccupied with the rain as he was. Yet, was she enjoying it? The thought refused to go.
It was important to him that she enjoy the rain. And suddenly he felt an urgent need to be with her. To share the rain with her. The feeling was above any objection his mind put forward.
Unmindful of the people on the road, his sabotaged phone and his hate for the rain, he stepped out of the shed. The rain splattered on him.
He outstretched his hand and inhaled the fragrance of the wet soil.
***
The tears had dried on her face leaving their trail behind. She got up to wash her face when her phone started blinking. It was a number she did not recognize.
"Hello," said a voice that was a part of her soul.
"You?" she asked.
"This is not the time to be in the house. The smell of the rain is overpowering." he said urgently.
"Are you? Are you out in the rain." she asked with disbelief.
"Yes! And so should you be."
The line went dead.
A smile formed on the corners of her lips. Dropping the phone she ran out of the house.
***
He handed over the phone to the bewildered old lady.
"That was the life saving phone call you wanted to make?" she demanded angrily.
"Yes!" he smiled. "It saved our lives."
Saying so he ran in the direction of her house --- to share the rain with her.
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Rainy Reflections
“Today I drop the façade
Lower ever slightly the walls
Seek what I have eluded
And promise to not deceive the deluded”