I wish you'd know :)

Reads: 83  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
I do not know how to describe this story. All I can say its me, my time spent, with the person who is I do not know what to me. My story just seeks the answer to my question. I wonder how would you define our relationship after reading it!

Submitted: April 13, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 13, 2017

A A A

A A A


....

“Hei !………………aint it exactly where our story had began?”

…….. “wait what?......do we even have a story?”,she said…sipping through her coffee.

Now when she thinks of it…..she smiles. Life !....so strange,every thing associated to this four letter word is strange. Crazy , how she had once told him….that coffee shops were’nt her thing anymore. She had wanted to embrace “antlamo” back then. A conception that he never understood. He was always the…. “get away from Kolkata,as soon as possible” kind of a person.

“No I mean…..not a story exactly…..well you know what I mean!”

“umm nope…I don’t…..forget it…I donot even want to!”,her gaze shifts from the tinded glass window to the waiter who was about to approach them. “Hot…ain’t he?”

“The waiter…..seriously…!”. Even as he says so, a big smile….a really big one goes straight from the right cheek to the left, and of course those dimples.

She would wait for months. Just to get a glance of those dimples on his cheeks. That smile, so unique to him. Lips wide apart showing his crown. Every time she would walk in, be it at his house or hers, or the hotel lobby at Digha, she would always be greeted with that smile meant to be featured on a Colgate advertisement.  Extremely disappointed she was, when she did not receive her usual welcome on the day she had gone to invite him for her grandma’s funeral. Worst was when he did not turn up for the funeral. Anticipation had become disappointment. She promised herself that she too is gonna ignore him for the rest of her life. Even if she knows that it would have been more harsh on her than him.

“ Madam, you want anything else?............Sir?”

“No thank you! Can you get the bill please?........... Lets get out of here!”

A pleasant morning it was, the kind that appealed to her. It was still drizzling. A perfect lousy sky, breezy  and soothing, not to forget the perfectly filled puddles. She would try splash the water, jumping from one puddle to another.

“Sop,when are you planning to……..?”

“Planning to what?”

“Planning to……grow up”

“ Seriously?.... Dude?!!.....come up with something better!”

Her reply followed by a pretentious blank expression, as she was desperately trying to conceal the what was going on within her. They stopped in front of a ciggerate shop.

“ Do you still smoke?”

“Definitely not with you…..!”

“Yeah the most obvious reply……..I mean what else could you have said after all those failed trials”

“Bhaiya!.....doh….umm....Goldflake lite?”

“Hmm cholbe”

There was nothing else in this world, that she could have asked for at that moment. The crispness of the morning, that wet park bench, the very feel of the smoke going in and of course the warmth of the person sitting next to her.

“ How is work?”

“Good!.......how about you?”

“Good, sop when are you going to Antarctica?”

“ When are you going to the Himalayas?”

“ The very day you’d be ready with your GPS.....”

There was a flood, a flood on her mind. Too many memories had jammed her ability to think, and come up with the reply to his taunt. She thought of the day, ages before when this conversation had taken place. They both were laughing at their incapability of setting there goals straight. Rather she was the one who sucked at it, he would just tag along. Planning crazy stuffs for there future, thinking of how they would enjoy the dinner at each others wedding, both trying to show how they were absolutely not interested in each other , but terribly failing at it.

That morning, she had never expected that she would run into him at the coffee shop. She knew that they were both living in the same city. Perks of falling for your father’s, friend’s son, that you’d always know of his whereabouts. But that day she was in for a surprise . Her favourite surprise in seven years.

He had not changed much. Those messy hair curls. To her surprise he had kept a beard. To which she remembered how she would tell him that she likes guys with beard, and he would tell her how he was too lazy to shave.

“ What happened to your crush from college…….the guy with English hons?”

“That was seven years back you idiot!...... can we talk about someone more recent?!”

“Okay!......sop whom are you crushing on these days?”

“Kiran Jethwa”

“And……who is he?”

“A chef…… a really hot one…. But sad he is married!”

“Awww…… Good for you!”, he chuckled.

“Forever an asshole!”

That’s what he would always do. He would find all her allegations strangely comforting, and of course her whole presence extremely amusing. She was crazy. Everything about her was simply absurd. Starting from her choice of nail colours to her weird posts. Craziest of all were her ideals.

Settlement in Antarctica, marriage to a chef provided the guy cooks for her, reading books after sex. But he could spend hours listening to those ideals. Her nonstop blabbering , most of which would make no sense. Her very presence would radiate an aura , that was so dear to him. Even if she would make an absolute mess of herself, there was something that would still draw him towards her. An unstoppable force, that would fail all his efforts of restraining himself from her. He knew that she was just not meant for him. His family was a mess. Binding himself to a family that was so close to his family, would just mean more problems. He already had too many to deal with.

“How are you liking it here in this city?”

“I’m loving it here……”

“Got over Kolkata so easily?”

“Do I really have to stop loving one place to fall for another one?”

“Umm….I seriously do not know , what do I say to that”

“So you”

She could be categorised as a thinker, a dreamer, a creator. He was the doer, the realist, the calculative. Though they were shades apart, yet they created a perfect contrast. Something that cannot be tagged as common, something absolutely out of the box. Even though they would never pursue each other’s ideals, yet both had a strange understanding of it. They were never an obstruction to each other’s goal. They were never together to support it either, yet from a distant corner they would boost  the other’s passion , help it grow and branch off.

“ What do you do, all day?”, she asked.

“Wake up, poop , ‘try’ to work, eat, booze and sleep……. What about you?”

“Same , just find out some time to scribble in the middle”

“Yeah right!...... you still drawing?”

“Sometimes……”

“Ever thought of making it your profession?”

“Someday……..”

An uncomfortable silence followed. The birds chirp had a strange sense of melancholy to it. Then came a cool breeze , hope in disguise maybe.

He could see that cheerful glee in her eyes was still alive. Waiting for that day to come, when everything would fall in place. Subconsciously he promised himself that he would never let it die.

“Still obsessed with Bengali films?”

“And you still haven’t watched a single one?”

He smiled, “No”

“O Tunir ma tomar tuni kotha shone na…….”, singing to himself. That’s what he would always do when she would mock him for not watching Bengali films.

She smiled.

“Sop found someone?”

Coming back to the most obvious question. Rather the most common question. Something he would ask her every time they would meet. Everytime he would try to get something out of her . And like always she would dodge the question. Or say something really stupid. Not being able to gadge, how desperately he had wanted to know the answer.

“Yes….. finally got lucky!”….she said…. “ How is your girlfriend doing?”

And thereby coming to same climax to their story, rather their every meet.

“Good”, he said.


© Copyright 2017 sleepy_eyed. All rights reserved.