The blog...
Comfort
>> Sunday, May 5, 2024
Almost
>> Friday, April 26, 2024
I am 99, and 11:59
I am the dart, that hits the outer bull’s eye
In a world of grace, her melody twirls
In her eyes she holds, the ocean’s glow
Place: the tree beside bench no 7
Time: twilight
Shreya was standing under the tree, the place which Akash told her. It was their first date, and he is late, 20 minutes now! Surprisingly she is not agitated. “Such a weird meeting place!! Typical Akash!!”, thought Sreya, with a slight smile and loads of good feelings. The euphony of the dried leaves made an agreeable interlude in her ears. The water in the lake was calm, only to be broken by the gentle ripples created by the almost white swans swimming gleefully. The banks of the lake were almost filled with water hyacinth. Some of the hydrophytes have bloomed with pretty light pink flowers. “An invasive plant specie can also be beautiful”, thought Sreya. The reflection of the setting sun on the water blurred by the occasional ripples created a hallucinating effect. The incessant chirping of the birds in the surrounding trees made a chaotic rhythm. A mild breeze mixed with the scent of wild vegetation was blowing through her lightly tied hair. Sreya was overwhelmed with excitement mixed with an unknown nervousness.
After her first bad encounter with Akash at the wedding, her impression gradually changed. When Akash apologised about his behaviour Sreya unknowingly started liking him. Maybe because of his respectful and charming behaviour. His initial apology converted into gradual conversation about everyday life. They started sharing their best memories and dreaded nightmares. She got to know Akash better. Their occasional pings converted into frequent messaging and sharing trivial incidents. Aakash had almost become a part of her everyday life, unknowingly.
Sreya was engrossed in her surrounding and thoughts when she saw Akash at a distance. His white shirt was folded almost upto his elbow. Again, signs of imperfection. But that did not stop the butterflies flying in her stomach which transformed into a smile at her face. She has already started falling for this incorrigible and imperfect boy.
Place: walkway to the tree beside bench no 7
Time: twilight
Akash’s favourite number is 7. He is a frequent to the place and knows almost all the corners here. He was aware that the setting sun’s rays would fall through that particular tree during sunset. And he was not wrong. The golden rays kissed gently on Sreya’s face. The mild breeze blew her locks of hair onto her face and she brushed them off absentmindedly. She was wearing a blue and white salwar, and a small black bindi. She was like a living poetry and Akash wanted to read it over and over again. The incoherent laughter from the nearby laughing club group is no distraction to the classical rhythm in front of him.
Sreya is the almost perfect girl Akash met in his life. He could not stop himself from chatting with her. Gradually he started feeling comfortable and opened up about himself. He shared his emotions, memories, likes and dislikes, an unlikely trait of an almost introvert like him. He never shared his emotions with anyone, but with Sreya it was different. He wanted to know her more and he only knows the fear and subsequent courage he had to muster before asking her out. Naturally he was ecstatic when she agreed and wanted to create the best impression.
Aakash knew that Sreya was a perfectionist and he didn’t want to create another bad impression in front of her. But being Akash, misfortune never deserted him and he was unintentionally late. All along the way he was constantly thinking how to make amends for being late, which made his mind very chaotic. But the moment he saw Sreya from a distance, he almost immediately calmed down. Chaos gave way to rhythm, like the constant flow of a rivulet creating a soothing sound of water.
When Sreya looked at him with a smile, his heart easily skipped a beat. Like an hourglass, his world turned upside down at that moment, and just like the grains of sand, he fell for her, slowly but completely.
Lost
>> Wednesday, August 25, 2021
Like a note in a corked bottle;
And thrown into the ocean,
Wanting to be found
By the sailor singing for home,
And burnt in the hearth,
To rise like the phoneix,
From the blown away ashes