I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase //
To deny herself the pain of missing him was like denying her the privilege of getting up and facing each new day with misery. She wondered what had transpired. When did the positions got swapped and when she got to be on the other side of the court in this relationship?
Frivolous thoughts crossed her mind. Of checking his old text messages and the several old voice messages on the answering machine. There was again a struggle to find a tone that assured her he was pining for her as well. The fake self-assurance and the burden of her forgiving attitude was driving her towards finding a new level in the courtship. She knew that this has been cruel to her and him. To find a comforting voice or a calm assurance was the sole motive left. Love indeed does strange things to you. It might make you happy but with it, it brings a whole new set of illogical arguments that gets you to support any idea or thought that will make you feel assured that the other person is an equal stakeholder as well. It makes you calculate fake assumptions that the other person knows you as much you want him to know you. This is where the expectation nudged in.
Expectations and calculated assumptions tethered the sanctity of their relationship on the public front. On the personal front, it had reached the status of ‘taken for granted’. The over confidence of not ever losing touch and keeping the flame alive was stamped with a degree of surmountable trust. They had reached a point where they knew what words were coming out of each other’s lips and what thoughts crossed each other’s mind. The predictability had created rough edges around their daily communication. This is where the void peeped in.
Emptiness was always there. But this time it was different. It was sonorous and pricked their hope of making things work like the last time. He knew that the status quo of hope was a banality that any long term distance guaranteed to its holders. He had spent many dull evenings being carefully careless to avoid another mock confrontation of saying a vacuum laminated I love you. She had also felt her stone eyes devoid of any more emotions. The tethering was a continuum for him as it brought stability to his severely routined life. The tethering was a continuum for her as it occasionally brought tears to her stoned eyes.
This is where the commitment swayed in.
Currently listening to Tera Bina Zindagi Se Koi Shikwa To Nahi (Aandhi)
Story title is as per Fubar69’s 100 blog topics. (Topic #31)
As the bubble wrap got over, she realized there were three more items to wrap and kept in cardboard boxes. They would be coming any time soon. Was it the low quality tape or the old newspapers or the thermo-col pieces flying as the fan creaked on speed 1 or the fact she hadn’t eaten anything or hadn’t slept for a day was boggling her tired frame. The time was scarce and the to-do list wasn’t looking generous.
Taking a minute out to ponder over the list was something that she was carefully avoiding. There were things that were far important than cursing how humid it was that day or how the room reeked of that smell. She gathered those last three items and looked at them for couple of minutes. There were countless memories attached with them, funny anecdotes and priceless tags too. Her phone was ringing and she looked around to reach for her handbag. Her mother had been calling her and she was avoiding her like the list. ‘Hello, yes mother I am fine. Yeah I am still at the apartment. No, they aren’t here. Yes I ate something. No, I didn’t see your previous calls. Yes, I will call you as soon as I will reach there. She stopped to hear another round of twenty questions dreading she’d say that any moment now.
It all started with when she first told her about the whole thing. At first she thought she had her at the customary affirmative nod. She was wrong like always. Her mother’s queer view on just about everything and about this whole thing was much expected. To avoid it and yet be a part of the tension in the room was her skill. That evening came to an end with them saying good bye to each other while she looked at her wrinkled face and a look that said what she always dread.
Yes mother, I have kept everything. Yes, I have called them up to confirm. Initially it sounded like a convenient option to just respond in monosyllables but that was perhaps a bit rude considering the sanctity of the relationship and the assumption of protocols it carried. She was now waiting for her to end the call so that she could scream loudly and throw her scratched cell phone to the wall as soon as the dreaded phrase was uttered. It had taken another three minutes thirty-six seconds for her to say that.
The phone was damaged beyond repair, a fact that made her happy in a far corner of heart. That dreadful phrase had ruined too much of it already to have enough corners for happiness. She had learnt her first lesson as a mother of her yet to be conceived child.
She had learnt to be kind enough not to say, ‘ I told you so’.
Story idea came after looking at the picture above (courtesy: Eternal Click of a Spotless Lense ~ I saw, I captured). I told you so is a cruel phrase. Yes, it is almost like rubbing salt in your wounds. Avoid.