Beauty Is A Fragile Gift! - A Short Story

She woke up to the screeching sound of the alarm clock, eyes wide open, and she stared into nothingness, arms crossed on her chest. On any other day, that would be how she would decide the menu for breakfast and lunch, but that day she couldn’t muscle up the energy to drag herself from the warmth her woollen bed sheet offered. Pulling the sheets over her face she drifted back to sleep.

“Is the breakfast ready? What am I having for lunch?” he asked, although there was a demanding tone to the phrase.

“Sorry, I couldn’t prepare anything as I woke up late, will you eat out for today?” she said apologetically.

He could see the tiredness in her eyes not only today, but for a few days now, but couldn’t help the frown and walked out of the house mumbling.

She felt the rush of guilt cutting her in half, but thought of making up to him that night.

She ran her hand over the dresses she had in her closet, with a dry smile she shut the closet. She couldn’t remember the last time she dressed up, coifed her hair, put on some jewellery and walked in to a movie theatre or a restaurant oblivious to the secret admiration that lingered around her. Soon reality hit her and she managed to bring herself together to do the household chores.

“I’ll be late, don’t wait up for dinner”, he said the second time he called that day, the first being an inquiry about her having lunch, which she still felt glad and happy about.

“But, I was preparing your...” and the line went off. “...favourite dish”, she murmured to herself staring at the recipe book she was clutching in her hands.

She was in her bed nicely tucked, when he came home in the night.

He walked in to the room to check on her then murmured a little louder than usual, which she figured out was an admonishment for her failure in the morning.

“Do you need anything?” she asked.

“No, go back to sleep” he said, and shut the door behind his back on his way out of the room.

The sound of the alarm jolted her, morning hysteria greeted her, but she managed to muscle the energy and dragged herself from the cosiness of the bed, she felt like she was swimming upstream. But she didn’t want him to walk out of the house empty stomach two days in a row! She just could not afford it.

Breakfast was on the table and the packed lunch sat pretty on the shelf beside the table.

He was sorry for the previous day, but he saved the apology and sympathy for some other day, savouring the breakfast and devouring the morning daily, unlike any other day, to her dismay he told her about previous day at office. Nothing great, just the normal he thought. So much goes transpires in one single day she exclaimed!

He ended the conversation abruptly, got up, took his lunch, said goodbye and headed out.

“Do you have some plans during the weekend?” he asked.

“Not that I can think of” she said, uncertain of the reason behind his asking, yet curious to know.

“Okay, we are going out”.

“Where, why?” she blurted out.

“See you in the night” and the line went off, before she could protest any further.

The weekend arrived, her curiousness grew. “Are we visiting someone?” she asked.

“You’ll know”, he snapped back.

“Wear your favourite saree, you know which one”, he said.

Uncertain whether to wear it or not as she had hung up memories in the very closet when she hung that saree in the closet 4 years back”, she felt the rush of guilt when she donned the light green saree.

They walked in to one of the restaurants, no sooner had she walked in, and nostalgia hit her. It took a couple of moments to shun the tremors of nostalgia before she could take any step further. She could sense and notice the small tokens of admiration around, she felt awkward.

He had already pre-ordered everything, so that they could talk more, rather than indulging in the mundane activity of going through the menu.

He spoke about what was going in his life, and she devoured every bit of it. He told her tales about his workplace, friends, the kind of fun they have. She was amused by few and frowned at few.

The food arrived, just when she thought the bouts of nostalgia started to sink in, she was being knocked out with a few more. She devoured the food, all of it pleasing her taste buds like before! He soon realised they were already late for the matinee he had booked tickets for, nevertheless they headed to the cinema, they wound up 1 hour late, but still walked in.

He took her for a long drive, as none of them had the appetite for supper. They drove till sunset, trees passing by, and soon every mile seemed to be just another number. On their way back home they had ice-cream, “nostalgia she thought” .They laughed, argued, and teased each other until the dreading silence engulfed them, none of them wanted what was transpiring between them to end. But, everything comes to an end, sooner or later.

When they got out of the car to get some fresh air, she broke the silence.

“What was this all about? Why did you have to try so hard, did I appear so fragile?

“Beauty is fragile gift, and I could sense it was being snatched away from you.” And, I realised it was time I restore what you are worthy of, it was time; he chose his next words carefully, to fill in my father’s shoes, and walk the rest of miles with you!

“Shall I believe today was just a coincidence? She asked.

“I’ve read Dad’s diaries”, every day from now on shall be a coincidence, nothing more and nothing less!

She nurtured the promise she wore on her finger 20 years back, a tiny tear started rolling down her cheek, and then she smiled, assured of the fact that the promise has not been broken.

He could see her exude radiance like never before, her eyes sparkling, the tear rolling down her cheek twinkling and the grey hair shimmering in the moonlight, a sight that made his heart skip a beat, and a sight that etched deep into his heart!

The next day morning she woke up a couple of minutes before the alarm went off, crossing her arms she decided the menu for breakfast and lunch, and with utmost zealous she found herself heading towards the kitchen!

Together We Can! - A Short Story.

I was in flipping through the pages of a magazine, when I caught him glancing at me, and I caught him a couple of times again and could see the delight on his face beam for being caught, his face beamed. I took the magazine and started walking towards him in haste, with anger smeared all over my face. Oblivious to the face that I was walking towards him, he turned with the boyish smile that he flaunted before, startled, he almost juggled the book in pursuit of keeping it in control, but failing miserably in the end and dropped it to the floor, and smiling to myself I walked past him considering it as my triumph.

“Shall we go for a cup of coffee”, he said while I was at the bill counter again oblivious to the reaction of the cashier, who looked at him, then me, and smiled to himself with his head down.

“No, not with strangers who gape at women”, I blurted back, and could see his boyish grin drain from his face.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever, and I would like to have that joy, which here are you!”

Although, I was impressed with him for quoting John Keate, I just couldn't go out with a guy whom I caught glancing at me at a book store, though I wanted him to stick around for few days or maybe ask me again, hoping that he would, I said “No”.

“Oh, Okay. Sorry for the trouble”, he said. And, I thought to myself, how violent hope was, it makes you vouch for things when odds are stacked against you.

Over the next few weeks I visited the bookstore, again in the hope that I would come across him, but in vain. The next time I saw him was with another woman in the very bookstore, both deeply in conversation, and an intense argument on who would have better narrated the story of the book, the lady was holding. I was heartbroken, that could have been me, had I went for a cup of coffee that day.

He waved at me from a far corner of the bookstore, and I this time I brushed away my ego and waved back. He started walking towards me, and I started hoping despairingly that would ask her out and tell her the woman was her sister.

“I am glad, you waved back”, he said, his grin etched from ear to ear.

I smiled, and glanced at the woman standing by the cash counter over his shoulder, “A friend of mine from college” he said.

“Ambivalent about to be elated or sad, I managed to let my smile give away a little more than I’d expected.

“The bookstore is now lit up” he said, winking at me. “Would you like to join us for a coffee? I am not alone now, if that was your concern the first time.

I was elated and devastated at the same time, both for obvious reasons.

We were seated in the coffee shop, both of them still arguing over who would do justice to the story.

The woman introduced herself, and both of them opened up over coffee, and we got along really well. He was studying law and she was his classmate, I was again really glad about the classmate thing. Over the next few hours we spoke about politics, literature, Law, music, and love. 

He was fun to be with; I enjoyed every sip of coffee I took that day. I liked him too much maybe. And, then the agony of parting ways started filling the coffee house, and I wanted to scream and tell him to stay.

The next time I saw him was outside the bookstore, in a haste of starting his bike.

“Hello there”, I said, long time.

“Greetings my lady”, he said with his boyish grin etched from ear to ear and winking at me.

“Coffee”, I somehow blurted out.

He looked at his watch, and uncertainly, he said “OK”.

Over the period of few years, I regretted asking him coffee that day, I should have walked directly in to the bookstore right after we exchanged hello’s.

“I have managed to get a job as a Paralegal under one of the famous lawyers in a London based brokerage firm, I would be leaving tomorrow morning, I came to pick up some novels to savor on my flight tomorrow morning”, he said.

The coffee soon went cold, its taste from sweet to sour, it color from light chocolate brown to black. His words struck me like a thunder; the walls of the coffee shop suddenly started closing in on me and I couldn't breathe anymore.

There was so much to say, and so much to talk about over copious amounts of coffee, but life had too little to offer, and I was not pleased with it.

It took time for the words to sink in – Paralegal, London, Tomorrow Morning.

“I choked out, are you sure?”

“What do you mean by sure?” This is my dream job and I have waited for this ever since I took up Law as my education.

I didn't have anything else to comment upon and with that our conversation died there and silence engulfed us.

As a formality we exchanged phone numbers, e-mail Id’s and we said goodbye’s to each other and parted ways.

I wore my emotions on my sleeve and he wore his, if at all he had any, he seemed happy, while I was not. I was broken and I needed to be mended.

Over the next few days, I flung myself on to the bed and fantasized about us having a long distance relationship, fantasies that liberated and were extinguished without anyone knowing about them. I no longer visited the bookstore, my bedroom turned into my humble aboard.

After a couple of weeks, I received a text from him saying he has reached there and has settled, the job was great and London was beyond his imagination. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but figured out, what’s the point?

And then, he was the first to break it in an e-mail, through my silent delirium he wrote, “I would have loved to spend more time with you, shame that I could not”.

I could sense a glimpse of hope, the wick of the candle starting to burn brighter, and I couldn't hold it any longer and opened up to him over the phone a few days after. To my dismay, he too felt the same way that I did, he liked me as much as I liked him.

Over the period of next few months both of us couldn't get off the phone, we wrote e-mails, made long phone calls, but the distance between us remained the same, and the agony seemed to grow more and more.

“So, would you like us being in a long distance relationship?” I asked him, though it sounded to me as if I demanded.

“I don’t know, I am not sure I am ready for this”, he said.

“Why not, it has been close to a year now, and you still are not ready?” I was harsh yet subtle, despairingly hoping he would stand by me in this.

“Uncertainly he said, I don’t know, do you think it would work?”

“Of course it would, we together shall make it work.”

“I am not sure yet” he said and then got off the phone saying he had to attend a meeting.

I felt guilty of being a little too strong on him, but, I somehow had the inane urge for a commitment. Later that week, I found a postcard, with Eiffel Tower on the back of it and it read,

“I love you way too much, and you make me happier than I ever could be, and if my happiness comes at a price of this, I am not sure if we could work this out, but, if you think we can, then yes, I am ready for it. I trust you, you cannot be wrong”.

I couldn't be any happier, I wished he were here with me, but nevertheless I took the leap of faith.

They say distance makes love bonds stronger, yes it does, I've felt it. Over the next few months the frequency of our calls and e-mails to each other increased 10 fold; I woke up late in the night, drafting huge messages for him, as he did the same for me.

And, here we are still doing the same after 5 years of staying apart and I couldn't have been any happier, as the closure on the distance between us, is in sight!