'Hey...' their lips refused to utter this but their eyes couldn't resist to sparkle for the love they, some day, had for each-other.
They were in market when they fall upon each other in the heavy rush of the morning -market.
Asking 'how are you' seemed useless as they both knew how they were spending the remaining life and not living it.
"I didn't know, you live in the same city!" She exclaimed in surprise. He could differentiate the sparkles of surprise and that painful smile.
She wanted to scold him why he'd grown such a dark beard; why he'd developed such dark circles around those deep eyes she, once, used to die into that and re-alive herself; why he'd lost so much weight, but the all she could react was a natural exclamation mixed with that painful smile!
"Yes, for some time only!" He answered just like that.
He felt being cheated by words as he'd always been feeling while flowing down poems. He wanted to say her that she was looking as beautiful as she used to be; he wanted to say that her smile still could take his breathes away; he wanted to say that he's satisfied that she's fine and living her life, but somehow the words didn't came out!
They talked till the path drifted in the two small ways and they had to go on respective ways. They stopped. Looked at each-other. Exchanged no words. Pretended smiles. And fell apart.
"Actually, the bajaj-bazar here is really good, you shouldn't miss it to be visited if you're in the city." She suddenly stopped and said, turning back with a smile.
She knew he would be standing there as she'd left him, like always. And she was right!
"Actually I'm going there tomorrow for some shopping, if you wish, you can join me!" She stated formally as it was obvious that he would be coming.
Promises given for the next day and they exchanged a temporary 'bye' to each other.
The night was sleepless and full of dreams and desires.
They met the next day, roam along in the market, enjoyed a lot but the ice of formalities didn't agree to melt. They felt they were talking more with lips and not with eyes as they used to, in past. Making eye-contacts seemed the most difficult task for both of them.
But they continued to meet like that everyday. She started calling him at her home after her husband would leave for office. They would sit for hours and talking about each and every thing. He would recite some poems which were 'not' writing for her!
He would play with her seven years old daughter. She first found that uncle horrible but gradually, she came to knew how kind he was and how happy he sounded while playing with her.
"Uncle, I want you to tell me a story... now!" She once innocently insisted while playing with him.
"Baby, uncle is tired, no? Aise zidd nahin karte!" Her mother stopped her. But she insisted.
"Okay, don't scold her! I will tell her a story!" He said. That cute doll clapped with joy as he began to narrate a story,
'Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess who once met a boy in a concert. He was attracted by his work she became his fan. She approached him one day in a forest and stated that she likes him a lot. The boy also seemed to be affected by her beauty. Eventually, they fall in love!
Boy used to write poems for that girl...' he stopped and look at her and that cute girl.
'They saw a dream to be together for lifetime as their love blossomed in very beautiful way. But, destiny has other plans. The king, the father of that beautiful princess refused their relationship as the caste of boy was different and got his daughter married to somewhere else. They drifted apart.'
He looked at her. Tears of the engraved pain were oozing out of her eyes. He too felt wetness in his eyes. But somehow, he controlled over his feelings and looked at the cute girl.
She didn't utter a word but stood up. Went to her mother; wiped her tears and turned towards him,
"Uncle! I knew the princess of this story! She is my mumma, no? And that boy? It's you! Am I right?" Her innocence made him break down.
All he could say was, "Dekha Amritaa! Bachche bhi jaante hai!"
#SahirAmritaaLoveStory #SemiFiction #SaluteToSahirLudhiyaanvi
- HARSH THAKER
'Michchhami Dukkadam...' his name popped in the title-bar of the screen.
I opened and read it. Strangely in his chatbox, the prior message was the same- Michchhami Dukkadam with folded-hands icon on both the extremes.
Yes, he doesn't wish birthdays!
I just read it and closed my WhatsApp. Maybe an hour later, when I turned-on the mobile data again, I noticed his name popping again.
'So, you haven't forgive me...' he'd sent.
'No brother, it's not like that. But to be forgiven, one should have done some mistake or fault and I don't think you've harmed me anyway...' As if I were a great person, I wrote like this to him and noticed the message getting two tick-marks.
In some seconds, that ticks got the blue color and I saw him typing.
'You might not know, but I'm in fault!' he was innocent writing this, I felt. As we were childhood friends and it had been several years since we met last time.
'What?' I asked.
'Remember the teacher suspended me from the exam in eighth?'
'Yes... you were talking!' I stated as I tried to recall the scene. It was final exam of Science and he'd sat beside me. The teacher found him talking and without any warning he just snatched the paper and threw him out of the class. I could recall him crying and stepping out of the class quietly.
I later came to know that, he got just passing mark in Science and by that he stepped down on the tenth rank.
'But it didn't harm me...' I typed. I don't know why but I felt myself saying- 'it didn't affected me!'- while typing this.
'No... I harmed your image in my mind.'
'My image? In your mind? How?' I asked.
'Remember? When the teacher threw me out, I was not actually talking, I was just asking you to stop copying from chits as the teacher was around. But when he came you hid them quietly and started writing as if irritated by me and he thought I was talking... From then till now, I just believe, you were the one who made me suffer from this... I wished at least you should have said teacher that we were not talking!' he wrote. 'And I just have blamed you for that and that is why I'm seeking for you to forgive me...'
And the whole incident came before my eyes. He was at no fault then. If anyone, it was me who was cheating and yet we were good friend, I could not say the teacher that he was not at any fault... but I couldn't.
And look at him, he was asking me to forgive him for the fault that I made.
And all I could type was...
'michchhami dukkadam' with no capitalisation, no emoticons...
********
Here's a piece I wrote today. I want to admit that it's not a true experience, it's what I could write from my experiences and understanding of these words.
Apologies for the thoughts if they go wrong in your kind vision... ����
#HARSH
