just "Alone"....

Apparently, things are fine. Things are supposed to be fine. When I look around, I don’t see anything necessarily out of place. The sun shines bright. Frolicking with friends continues. Long late night walks and endless conversations are a part of the usual routine.

But, why then, my smile tends to fade a little too quickly these days? Why then, I tend to pray a little too long? Why do I stop and think when I am in the middle of something? I wonder why there is a weight on my heart.

Yes, I can feel it. I can feel something grasping my heart and it is so not pleasant. Everything seems so... ominous.
I look up at the sky with hope and there is nothing more I can do.

It's ridiculous how you get emotionally involved with people to the extent that it hurts. It's ridiculous how I can feel the pain. It's ridiculous how badly I want to hold her in my arms and put her to sleep since she had so many sleepless nights. I can't comprehend the logic behind these emotions, and it all comes down to this,


उसकी उदासी ही मेरी कमजोरी है...|


-omi

Another Chapter..... ( A Short Story )

"This is very special. I am not going to let you go..." he looked at her and whispered.

"Tell me that in the morning when the sun is up!!" She smiled.

"And.... Why is that?" his obvious question.

"Men say a lot of things in the darkness of the night that they haven't fully thought through..." She replied calmly.

"Well I am not like the others," he protested.

"Well.. That's what they all say.." She smiled again.. Followed by a wink..

He pulled her back from his arms then, she saw his puzzled gaze. He paused, smiled and added confidently, "And I am NOT like them."

But that's what they all say, except she didn't say it out aloud this time.

Instead she leaned in so he could kiss her again. And he did.
He slightly brushed his hand against her cheek before he pulled back and she smiled.
He walked her to the door. They quietly talked for a few more moments before they said goodnight and she started to leave. He knew she didn't want to leave but she had to.

He watched her walk out, and when she was out of sight... He turned around and pulled his sweater to cover his chest and crossed his arms over it. Somehow he was cold then. He walked into his dimly lit room, and looked at the clock: 2:53AM. He sighed audibly and suddenly felt an urge to make some coffee. A few moments later, he was holding his (and her too) favorite coffee mug as he made his way to the desk. The warm coffee felt good against his cold hands. Sleep was far from his eyes then. He logged on to the PC - the sound of the key strokes of the keyboard started shaping words, forming sentences, pouring emotions. And that is how he started writing his Another Chapter - Another Heartache...


-omi

its all about being good and bad.. ( A Short Story )

A 6-year-old knocked on Santa's door a little after midnight.

She asked the elf who answered the door that she needs to see Santa immediately. When the elf told her that Santa was asleep, the girl insisted that he needs to wake him up because it was about her bike. The girl was upset but she looked so cute upset. Seeing that, the elf smiled and seated her in the living room while he went to get Santa.

Santa came downstairs after a little while, still sleepy and rubbing his eyes.

The little girl looked at him and crossed her arms. Upon seeing that she was annoyed, Santa sat down, smiled and asked her what was wrong.

"I wished for a bike. You never gave me a bike," she said.

"Oh," replied Santa. "Did you ask for a bike?"

"Yes," she replied.

"What did you get instead?" he asked.

"A Doll."

"Hmm, well lets see that must be a mistake," Santa got up to look at his list.

"What is your name little lady?" He asked.

"Emma.. Emma Millington," she replied.

"Hmm, Emma Millington," Santa repeated while going through his list.

The little girl look at Santa intensely hoping that he would find her name and tell her that he will get her the bike she wished for.

"Yep, there it is," Santa finally spoke, "Emma Millington - who wants a pink bike."

"Yes!, Yes!," she replied.

"But there is a reason why the Bike wasn't delivered to you," said Santa.

He paused for a moment then asked,

"Have you been a good girl or a bad girl?"

The excitement on her face grew into guilt.

"Umm... well.... its not like that...," she mumbled.

"Have you been a good girl or a bad girl?" he repeated.

She couldn't reply, or it looked like she did not want to answer the question.

"Everyone has to answer this question some time in their lives, dear child," Santa said softly.

She looked up to Santa. She wanted to say something but she couldn't.

"Its alright, you can take your time. But you have to answer that question to yourself and the sooner you do it, the sooner you will know why particular things happen to you in your life."

"Hmm... I see," replied the girl. She got up to leave.

Santa watched her leave and didn't say anything. But as she was about to get out of the door, he said,

"Emma... Think about it, but know that Santa believes in second chances."

She looked back at him and smiled.



-omi

I dream... my way....

many people ask me...
"How do you dream? How can you dream so clearly? What do you dream of?"

I dream of what I can and what you cannot. I see what I should and what you would not. I feel what you want and I touch what you fear. I try to submit but as a droplet clinging to the surface, I have always held on to the intangible feelings of hope and remorse.

I dream of smoke and sparkles. I dream of nights, nightscapes and starlit skies. I reach out to hold the falling stars in my hands for I know the worth of the fallen ones. I dream of valleys; green and blue. I dream of the lies, the eyes and the truths. I dream of castles in a far away land. I dream of wars, won and lost. I dream of colors so rich and true. I dream of music so soft and melodious. I dream of dark endless nights that dissolve me in fervor and passion.

…But then again, I dream of nothing. I stay awake at nights, holding my hands against my weak, weak heart. I drink caffeine in abundance at a time. I drink, write and read your words, your eyes, your thoughts. I can’t dream as you forbid me to, and then you ask, “What do you dream of?”

As we all celebrate our mediocrity, paying in blood for all things free; hunting ravenously for a bargain to buy back our brains, I want to sit calm and sail in my decade of dreams--fighting the battering bullets with butterflies.

If I do continue to dream don’t wake me up for I am a boy they find impossible to forget and infernally hard to remember.

How do I dream? Do I really know?

I catch a fluttering butterfly and choose colors from its wings. I close my eyes and hear the waves moan as they crash against the shore. I stood once in freezing, feeling the hail numb my soul. I feel yesterday from a pedestal high and the hurt made me feel alive. I taste the salty teardrops grazing the corner of my lips. I feel lovely touch and the satisfaction of loving someone. I feel the cool sea breeze tingle my skin and more.

…and that’s how I dream my friend. Though there is still more—more to dream, more to determine.


-omi

That Bar... That Night..

She was sitting at one corner of the bar, idly playing with the straw in her diet coke while some drunk guys sang an old classic song at the Karaoke. She turned around and glanced at them, and then her watch. It was 1:30am. She looked at the boys who were busy chatting and laughing standing close to her, and realized how much they have bonded with each other over the last few weeks. She turned back towards her drink and started observing the tipsy strangers around her until he tapped on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, Are you having a good time?" he asked while sitting next to her.

"Oh, I am fine. Looks like you guys are having fun."

"Well you must be knowing by now. It's always a good time," he replied with a smile.

"Good, don't worry about me, go have fun with the guys," She said.

"But I have to worry about you," He replied.

"And why is that?" she smiled.

"Because you are the one..... I have to worry about,"

It was one of those statements, in which the pause between 'you are the one' and 'I have to worry about' made her almost believe that there was no pause, that perhaps there was just a period there.

But sadly, life seldom brings periods our way. There is always a comma or a question mark. Perhaps, it is because you can always count on the comma and a question mark but never the period.

"And how do you know that?" She asked.

"I feel it," he replied simply while taking a sip from his drink.

"Don't you think it is too soon to tell?" She asked.

He leaned in closer to her, as if he was going to kiss her. But didn't kiss her.

"I know how I feel," He said.

"Ahem, can we interrupt the lovely couple?" their friend asked and both of them diverted their attention towards him.

"Come here man," he said to the friend while standing up and putting his arm around his shoulder. Then he put his other arm around his other friend's shoulder, and faced her.

"You see this woman... this beautiful woman.... she... she is mine," he said. There was pride in that tone.

They all smiled, and while he moved on to talking more about what he thought about this relationship and how he loved the idea that she came across him, she zoned out for a little bit, because in that very moment, when she looked at him standing in front of her smiling and giggling, she knew that this man was going to be a handful and if she took this man's hand, it would be a crazy ride. They wouldn't be perfect and would probably drive each other crazy. But somehow, she knew it then that they would go a very long way. She was right. And knew what she had to do.

So in that moment, she got up, put her purse on her shoulder, and took his hand in her.

"Lets go home..." She said.

He winked..


-omi

defining love...

She is getting comfortable.
She is getting comfortable in those arms a little too much. For the first time, she is not afraid. She is not afraid of herself, not afraid of people around her and not afraid of the future. Come what may. Now she does not care… and why should she? She have felt the touch—that caring tender touch and will give up anything for it. She knows it is worth all.

She is glad that he is sincere. For the first time, She has known that he cares— she has felt it (She won’t complain/taunt anymore *smiles*). She is glad that she can hear it in his words and see it in his eyes. She is glad it is him. She will never have any regrets. She is glad it is him that she has shared herself with.

She is beautiful and he is handsome. These past few days have reminded her of why she fell in love with him in the first place. These days, after a long time, he is reminding her of the man who depicts wonderful manners and a strong character. The man who is full of life… who is generous at heart and who doesn’t give up even when life shows less hope. True, some mistakes have been made. Some harsh words were said and some things weren’t avoided. But, she still believes there was nothing that is not amendable. He is the man whose smile makes her heart skip a beat. The man, she has loved. The man she is proud to love.

She says...
"Do not worry, my darling, I do not ask anything in return. I do not wish to cause you any harm or distress, for I am just living a dream. I am living this wonderful dream, which, I know has to come to an end sooner or later. I hope we both cherish the memories if and when it is over...."


-omi

knowing you....

Suddenly, all I can think about are all the things I don't know about her. All the things I never had the chance to learn. I don't know if her feet are ticklish or how long her toes are. I don't know what nightmares she had as a child. I don't know which stars are her favorites, what shapes she sees in the clouds. I have no clue what she writes in her journal or if she writes at all. I don't know what she is truly afraid of or what memories she holds closest.

I don't know how she holds her pen or if she shakes her leg when she is waiting on something. I don't know how her breath smells like . I don't know how her hair feels like or if her hands remain hot or cold. I do not know. And I don't have enough time now, never enough time. I want to be in the every moment with her, but my mind explodes with grief for all that I am missing. All that I will miss. All that we have wasted.

Perhaps... you can afford to wait. Perhaps... for you there's a tomorrow. Perhaps... you have many many tomorrow's to come that you can let the todays slide and have so much time that you can waste. But for some of us there's only today. And the truth is, you never really know.


-omi

Only for "you"...

I am writing this for you. You and only you. Everyone else who is reading this is just reading it. They don't understand it, only you will. You need to know this - all of this, because if you don't know it now, you may never know and I cant live with that.

I thought I had so much more time. I thought I had years to tell you what I have been wanting to tell you so I have been putting it off for tomorrow. But it turns out that I have no time. So I have to tell you right now hoping that you would listen and listen well.

There are so many photographs that you have yet to see - photographs taken only for you. they are yet to get developed.. They are still in my eyes.. my mind.. And there are so many letters that you have never read - letters meant only for you. And there are so many plans that you have not heard about, that you should have known. And my heart, my silly heart that yearns for you, you haven't even seen it all all. But you must, because right now may be the only time I get to show you.

I know we are not perfect, and may never be. (and please don't be.. I love imperfections in you.. "Us"!!) In fact there is no point in making this perfect, because perfection makes it all boring, only the pursuit of perfection makes it exciting. And you know we are exciting. So I know that I am going to continue to ruin perfectly romantic moments by saying something silly, and you will continue to make me mad by cracking a sarcastic joke at the wrong time. But the truth is, I want to get mad at you. And I want to yell at you and I want to fight with you and want me to make it up to you... I just love it when you get angry at me.. No matter how frustrated I get, I don't want it to stop, because that is what makes it special in its own screwed up way. And I always want to do something silly and blame you for it. I want to give you the first spoonful of whatever it is that I am about to eat and I want to do that for the rest of time. I do. I really do.

And I want you to get mad at me so that I can tell you how adorable you look and show you how perfectly you fit into your arms even when you don't want me to. There are so many things that I want to do for you, so many things that we need to see together, like the snow, the beach, the rains.. and lot many dreams.. together...

I know it defies logic... A lot.. And I know it is not simple, but here is something I never told you before: loving you is the easiest thing I have known, and that is the truth. Can't you see it, that you are just a silly girl, crazy woman who belongs with me and only me, because why would God ever make the wrong man love you in all the right ways? He knows it all, and He must have a plan. Please don't mess with His plan.



-omi

Crazy Woman....

"How do you do that?” he asked. “I mean how can you open yourself up to someone and love them so much after all that you have been through?”

“Think about your first love...” She said. “ Think about the person you loved for the very first time - the love that was fearless and the heart that was unfamiliar with any pain. Do you remember how that feels?”

He nodded.

“Well, that's the thing with me...” She continued. “When I fall in love with someone, I make my heart believe that I am falling for the first time. I cannot bear the fact that the man who is the object of my affection should not get my full affection because of another man who caused me pain at some point. I believe in taking chances and I cannot live with the fact that I will not offer myself fully to someone who might be deserving of it because I have been hurt before.

Besides, I have to give it my all in order to find out if the relationship or if that man is worth it. All these measured relationships do not make sense to me. I believe in loving and loving well.”

He remained silent for a little while, as if he was processing what she had explained to him.

“Women...” he finally spoke. “Women are so complicated and so crazy, and you,are the craziest woman I know.”

He smiled.



-omi

My December Returned....

December has returned.

After a long fruitless but patient wait, December has returned.
Just as the sun shines after a storm, December brightens my day.
Just like cold winter nights, December makes me shake and shiver.

In the trembling, shivering loneliness, why does December tease me?
On a cold, sad evening, why does December make me cry?
December returned....again.

To make me weave more dreams.... to build castles in the air, December has returned.
But, where are you, my love?
Just like last year, has December came alone?
Without you, barren is December.
Between you and me is December.
I cry and surprised is December…
For me… how worried is December!
Today, my pride is December.

Listen, December...
Please do me a favor.
When you come next year
Come with her.
Bring her along with you.
Please, December.


-omi

warmth.. life.. and we..

Do you know the feeling you get when you wear your favorite warm pair of socks straight out of the dryer?

You know, late night when your feet are cold and you wear the socks that are still warm from the heat of the dryer. I have to admit that it is the most “comfy-est” feeling in the world.

Have you ever tried to wear those old big loose-fitted sweaters at night? Those that don’t fit you at all and they are woolen... but they really make you feel all warm and fuzzy?

On top of that, did you ever try having a cup of coffee with a lot of cream?

Ok, how about taking some time to stare out of your window in the afternoon? Can you name 6 things that exist outside your window?

When was the last time you actually kissed or hugged a child?

Do you know the feeling you get whenever you make someone smile, either by being nice to them or by cracking a joke?

Do you know that friends have the ability to make you laugh until your cheeks hurts and you get stomach cramps?

Are you familiar with how much you can get satisfied with yourself when you kneel down and pray?

If you are not familiar with what I am talking about then I regret to inform you that you are the most unfortunate person in the world.

There are more things in life than work, or studying, or making money. There are more things in life than crying over those who are gone.

Stop. Think. Evaluate.


-omi

Ishq...

There comes a point in love when it doesn't hurt anymore. You feel nothing but love. Your love for the object of your affection and nothing else.

It's complete submission. You can't go any further than that. You love without wondering how they feel about you. Sometimes you love without even knowing where they are and if you will ever be able to see them again. Worries about whether you will be able to spend a lifetime with that person are so trivial to you because your love is greater than that.

I have learned that when you completely love someone you let go of all your desires. You just love. Not many people can actually wrap their heads around the idea but it makes complete sense to me. It brings me satisfaction.

Loving someone should always be easy. Relationships are complicated, love isn't. Too often we confuse the two together. Loving like that gives me the courage to go on.

I have loved another with all my heart and to me, that has always been enough.


-omi

Friendly Fire....

My friend always assured me that she will be there for me whenever I need her. But that is not true. Where was that girl when I got in a fight… with HER! She was supposed to back me up, but NO, she took HER side. So I'm torn between wanting to get back to the way we were, and knowing in my heart that she deserves a good slap..

Its a tricky thing to engage in a fight - with a friend. I find myself very perplexed in moments like these. I know it is not going to amount up to anything but I cant help but yell at her. But looking back at it, I thoroughly enjoy how my friends fight:

Guys - they usually wrestle around, throw a few jabs at each other and work the stress out so that everything's back to normal. I usually apply the same approach. Cut the drama, throw a few punches (or anything approachable that I can throw which wouldn't break), burn off some steam and once we are tired from the sheer absurdness, we sit in silence for a few minutes before one of us goes, "Wanna go grab a bite? I am hungry now", "Sure" and the rest is history.

Girls - now they are a whole another story. As a part of their programming, they will engage in an around 72-hour mental warfare (usually over me) in which each will pretend to not be mad and that the other is not noticing that she is pretending to not be mad.
Please Reread it if you must.
It makes sense I promise. At which point the first to get mad loses, is named the "B*tch" and must be the one to dish out the ice cream in the make-up ritual. They will ironically trade dirty gossip about the other members of their circle, causing the cycle to repeat itself. They'll gulp down spoonfuls of Rocky Road not at all realizing the inherent symbolism.

So which argument style is better? Healthier? Most damaging? I can't say.. Rather I cant Judge! ;)


-omi

He Laughs.. Silly Boy.. ( A Short Story )

She remembers she was having biryani for dinner that night. It was cooked in hyderabadi style - courtesy of a dear friend's mother - was quite spicy for her taste buds. He was quite amused while observing her constantly changing facial expressions with each spoonful of rice. She looked up and saw him looking at her.

"I CAN handle spices.." She said judging by his expressions of what he might be thinking.

"Yup! I am sure.." he said with a broad smile.

"I CAN!" She protested. "The other day I ate A WHOLE GREEN CHILI in that restaurant and I was just fine, you have the video as a proof."

"Of course my dear, I can see that now..." He grinned.

That smile. She noticed his smile then. It wasn't reserved but not too broad either that she could call it a laughter.

He has a sweet smile, but a gorgeous laughter. She doesn't think there are many people who are great with laughter. Since it is an involuntary action for the most part, no one has much control over how one laughs unless he is faking it. Some look good when they laugh while others sound good but seldom both, and he is one of those who got the best of both worlds in this matter.

He doesn't smile all that often but when he does, she almost wants to change it to a laughter, because that is when he is at his best and she wants to see him nothing less than his best.

"Dude, I can prove it to you..." she said picking up a green chili.

"Oh come on, there is no way..." he said almost laughing.

"You"ll see!" She said confidently.

She brought the chili close to her mouth. It smelled so strong that she knew it was going to be brutal to her. She hesitated then, but was getting close to the laughter. She looked at the chili and smiled before taking the whole thing into her mouth. Moments later everything turned out the way she thought it would... He was in splits while she was trying to calm herself down by resorting to water and eating some more rice (biryani though... Which did not help, in any way).

Her face almost turned red, and her tearful eyes were fixed on his face which was bright and cheerful - laughing away. His perfectly aligned teeth showing as his lips parted and curved into a broad grin. He tried to muffle his laughter when he saw her looking at him. But she was glad to know that he failed at that. He said something while laughing which she doesn't remember now because her pain was worsening at the time. She got up and resorted to the fridge to find something sweet.

She came back and started eating it with a spoon.

"Awwww, poor baby," he said. "Is it honey?"

"Its jam!" She declared.

He laughed the hardest then. She thought there was something in her tone - pretentious anger merged with pretentious irritation that made him laugh like that.

At that moment she realized that laughter was important, that he has the most beautiful laugh she had seen on a man and he needs to make good use of it. And she realized there was nothing she wouldn't do to make him laugh.

Very conveniently he added, "Don't challenge to do things that you know you can't."

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Because he couldn't see what she saw and she couldn't show him that. She smiled inside.

The little things matter. From every crevice of his face, to every move of his finger to every breath he takes, matters. From a moment of sadness to a second of his joy, matters. From the words he utters, to the sighs he take, matters. Every single thing about him MATTERS. And he doesn't believe that.

Silly Boy!

The Break Up... ( A Short Story )

She woke up to his fingers gently caressing her back... Gliding from the back of her neck all the way down her spine to back again. From what she had gathered, it was early in the morning. She felt tired but she knew that she had to get up. She turned around and faced him. He opened his eyes and smiled a sleepy smile. She leaned in and they kissed.

Soon after she got out of bed, looked around the messy room while he lay straight on his back with his eyes closed. She tied her hair up in a messy bun and started gathering her things....
Socks laying by the door, camera on his desk, a lipstick on the dresser, her perfume lying next to his deodrant, her scarf on the floor, the towel on the chair, some messed up clothes in the corner.... She carelessly tossed everything in the suitcase and wore the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she could see. She put his oversized old T-shirt. She changed out of neatly on the other side of the bed.

"You could take this with you, you know..." he said. She hadn't realized that he was observing me all that time.

"It's yours..." She replied quietly.

"But you love to wear it at night. You can have it." His response.

"It's alright," She said and looked away.

She untied her hair, decided to take a quick shower then cancelled the idea. It was still dark in the room. She went into the bathroom to wash her face. A moment later, She came back quietly and started brushing her hair.

"Breakfast?" She looked at him who was still laying on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah," he said after coming out of his thought process.

They looked at each other. He gave her a weak smile.

She came out into the kitchen, and poured him his favorite cereal. She did not have time to do anything elaborate. She heard the shower go off briefly before he walked into the kitchen with wet hair and dressed in jeans. On any other day, She would find him attractive, be a little mischievous, play with his wet hair, but that was not the day. Instead, she pointed to the table. He smiled. They sat down and quietly ate breakfast.

"Juice?" He finally broke the silence.

"I dont think we have any," She replied quietly.

"Oh, I suppose I would have to do grocery myself from now onwards."

"I suppose... but don't worry, you'll be fine, I trained you well," She said with a smile.

He laughed for the first time that morning.

After they were done eating, she took the dishes and washed them. As she was washing, he came up to her and hugged her from behind - putting his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder as he usually did. she kissed his forehead - as I usually did.

When she was done, he let her go.

"I think I should head out now..." She said.

"Yeah," he replied and went into the bedroom to grab her suitcase. She took hold of the other bag and her purse while walking out of the apartment behind him. As she exited the building, she looked back at it, just soaking it all in with all the memories they made in and outside of this building. He had already put her suitcase in the car and was walking back towards her. She stood there watching him. He came up to her and tried taking the bag off her shoulder.

"I can carry this one myself, you have already spoilt me a lot, I need to get back in the habit of carrying everything myself..." she said with a smile.

He didn't reply. Instead he leaned in and kissed her. They kissed for a longer time before she gently pushed him back.

"I will see you around..." she said brushing his shoulder with her hand.

"You better" he replied.

She smiled and started walking towards the car. As she opened the driver's door, she turned around and waved at him before disappearing in the car - her face was naked with love. This was something they had never talked about - "Love". But she allowed him to take one clear look at it... It blazed from her. And then she left....


-omi

A Little Odd Gifts... ( A Short Story )

What is the weirdest/oddest gift you have ever received?
Please share.

Here is a story:

One fine afternoon, She was trying to find her way in search of a book. She badly needed a cup of coffee to save her life because it was a particularly stressful day.. As she turned around a corner, and saw a perfectly sane and a nice looking gentleman walking towards her. Well, he wasn't really walking towards her, he was walking past her.. Since they were both on the sidewalk going in opposite directions. She saw him. He saw her. Nothing magical happened. She looked away the next moment. He was coming out of the pharmacy and she was heading towards the coffee shop right next to it. But somehow, after the guy passed by her, he turned around and stopped her.

"Excuse me?" She heard him say.

"Yes?" She turned around to face him wondering what he wanted.

"Umm... you are very pretty..." he said quietly.

Definitely, not the response she was expecting. she looked at him for a moment with a confusing expression, smiled and said,

"Well... thanks."

"Umm... I don't have anything else on me right now, but... umm... here... for you..." He handed her a 'Gatorade' bottle.

She looked at the bottle and then looked at him now really wondering what his plans were.

"No, please... umm.. i mean... please take it. It is a... bright.. ummm hot... day... and.. and.. you... you are soooo... umm... pretty..." He was practically strutting by this point.

She hesitantly took the bottle from his hand which was almost on her face. She was wondering how to respond to all of this, but before she could say anything he said, "Have a wonderful day!!!" and without waiting for an answer, he turned around quickly and walked away.

When he turned around she noticed that he was wearing a university jersey. He must be a student there. She watched him turn around the corner and disappear.

She took a closer look at the Gatorade bottle, it was still cold. Perhaps he just bought it for himself from the pharmacy. She was a little skeptical of it at first, wondering if there was some sort of drug in it, but it was sealed perfectly.

Later, she enjoyed that refreshing 'Gatorade' and smiled a little more. She may never see him again and may never really know what exactly he was thinking when he handed her that bottle - whether it was something planned or if it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. But she got a smile and a good story out of it.

So, ladies and gentlemen, this is yours truly..
Generally women get flowers and chocolates, and she got 'Gatorade' bottle.

and I love the little things that happen in oddest of ways...



-omi

Confessions of a Lover.. ( A Short Story )

This story might seem really cheesy and perhaps too cliched - except that it is not.

I am not too sure how memories are triggered. All the things that happen to us or the experiences we go through are stored nicely in our pretty little heads but we don't think about every thing all the time. Usually a long lost memory creep its way back into consciousness if we see something similar happening again, perhaps to someone, perhaps in a movie. Certain songs trigger certain memories. They say, scent is the most powerful invocator of memory.

But then there are certain memories that just pop into your head after a long time and as that memory comes back, it seems like it happened just yesterday.


One such memory came to her head from nowhere yesterday. She tried to look around for a trigger but there was none. She realized that she hadn't thought about this incident for years now. It was as if she had forgotten it. But then when it came back, it came back with every word she had heard then and every touch she felt.
.
.
.
It was an ordinary afternoon when he was sitting on the bed putting his head in yet another book while she was cleaning and re-setting up the house.

"So, I wanted to ask you something..." she said while putting the last of the folded clothes in the dresser.

"hmm... what is it?" he asked without looking up from his book.

She turned around, looked at him, smiled and said, "Well, its going to sound really cheesy but I am curious."

"Ah - that curiosity again. I have a feeling its going to get me in so much trouble one day," he grinned, this time looking at her.

"Well, not if you answer me properly." She added.

they both smiled.

"You might need some time to think about, but once you do, I am curious to know.... when was the first time you realized you were in love with me?" She asked seriously.

"Ah - the things you ask!" he teased.

After a brief pause he continued.

"I don't think I need time to think about this one," he replied while closing the book, and sitting up straight. He raised his arm and gestured towards her to come and sit with him. When she sat, he began.

"Remember the time when we used to meet on Saturdays and talk for the whole night and still pretended that we were 'just friends'?" he asked solemnly.

"Yeah, I remember that. You wouldn't sleep," She chuckled.

"And remember when there were a couple of Saturdays when I couldn't see you because I was out of town for that conference?" he added.

"Yes. Is that the time when you were in that car accident?" she asked immediately.

"Yes. When we were coming back, my friend and I, we had a head on collision with a truck. I don't how we survived," he laughed.

"It's NOT funny! You scared me so much then," She protested his laughter.

"Thank God we weren't hurt that much," he replied.

"You were in the hospital for 8 days!" She protested again.

"And you remember the exact day counts?" he asked almost surprised.

"You think! Those were like 8 years to me, of course I remember," She declared.

"Well when we had that collision, my friend passed out almost immediately while I was still conscious but barely. Since we didn't take the interstate to come back, we were on a smaller highway and there was very little traffic, it took a while for help to come because there weren't many people who saw the accident." his response.

"But you never told me that," She interrupted.

"I didn't want to worry you, besides I was fine by the time I saw you so I didn't even want to think about it,"
he came up with an excuse.
"So, when I was stuck in the car, I tried to move but I couldn't. I don't really know what exactly was hurting, but every time I tried to move I would feel a sharp pain all over and I couldn't move anymore. My energy was dwindling with each passing minute and it seemed like I was going to lose consciousness too. I tried to keep myself awake though, because I was afraid that if I had fainted I might not wake up."

He paused for a moment, stared at her hands as if he was putting the pieces together in this head, and then started again.

"You know, they say that when you are about to die, your whole life flashes before you?" he continued without waiting for an answer. "Well, that did not happen to me. There were no images of my childhood, no images of life flashing by me. Believe, it or not, as I lay there feeling nothing but pain, all I could think about was you, and that if I never get to see you again how will you ever know, and that I didn't want to die just yet. Your face was so clear in front of my eyes and you looked so beautiful and despite all the pain, I wanted to get up and see you in person. At that moment it seemed as I hadn't seen you or talked to you in ages and I missed you terribly."

At this time, her face was blank, and she couldn't think of a single word to say to him. She reached out and touched his hand. So, he continued.

"Then I felt my eyes closing and I don't remember anything after that. I don't know who came and who rescued us. I woke up in the hospital after a day or so. And when I opened my eyes, I didn't see the hospital room or the people around me. All I saw was your face again. And I smiled."

Her grip on his hand tightened.

"As I recovered for the next few days in the hospital and regained my full consciousness, I realized how much I love you and how much I want to be with you all the time. It was almost a revelation because before that I knew that I felt something for you and that you were important to me but I didn't know that you have consumed me to this extent, that the last thing on my mind when I thought I was about to die was YOU. I have been in road accidents before but something like this has never happened to me. So then, once I came back, I told you."

"You mean, you asked me if I loved you," She chuckled and tried to lighten the moment.

"Well, I had to start the conversation somewhere," he protested.

"That wasn't a conversation starter, that was more like finding out if I felt the same way before you spill the beans which is soooo courageous of you." She declared sarcastically.

"Since I knew I felt so strongly for you, I was terrified of being rejected and losing you," he announced.

She laughed. Then a moment later, asked,

"But, I never knew you went through all of that. I didn't even know the accident was that bad. We have been together for two years, how come you never told me about this?" she asked solemnly.

"Well, you never asked until today," He smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes. Then she found him looking at her face. She was all too familiar with that look - that specific look of a man in love.

"So, its my turn now... when was it for you?" he asked.

She leaned in a bit, putting her hand on his cheek.

"That's a story for another time," she almost whispered in his ear.

"Thats not fair,' he said grazing her lips with his.

"Love is never fair darling," she smiled.

As their lips melted into each other and his arms pulled her closer, she felt like the luckiest woman in the whole world.

And years later, she still does.



-omi