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!

No, She Is Not Open!

She beamed beatifically while talking to men, she laughed at their witty jokes, she was forthright and at times she might have gently brushed past them, she cared a little too much and she let them exploit her a little with her talk and ergo she is categorized as woman too easy to get, or rather let me put it subtly- a slut! But, you got to understand you took it one too far, you let your senses err repeatedly and rapidly.

Many a people have this compulsive need to draw conclusions quickly about others (women), and in that pursuit they miss out on the little nuance which defines a human being – common sense. Given the fact that a woman moves around with men, gets flattered on and off, she talks to men late night doesn't mean she has given in, you need to tune your mental faculties before they derive a thought and conclude things which suffice her character. 

It is a woman’s goodness that she tends to behave the same way with men as she does with women. Perspective here definitely matters, but then it should be worth of being showcased, it should not just dent others hearing organs. Albeit everyone has their own perspectives, for all you know, they are not going to hinder the path a woman has chose to tread. Every woman is amazing the way she is, it is the perception that is often gone awry!

Most of us men have the knack of getting ourselves wrong in things like this. We are no Brad Pitt or RDJ, most of us are not even close to what defines a man and we intend to outwit women, and you let yourself drift away to wonderland once you succeed at what you have intended to do. Just because she chuckled, blushed at your wits, cared and worried about you doesn’t quite mean you have won her fair and square, just so you know she often tends to be that way with everyone. Now, I might invite more brickbats for this post for bashing out men here, but it is all fine if you get the point I am trying to make. 

Every woman is amazing the way she is, some are open-minded and some are not, some are blithesome some are not, every woman is beautiful in their own way. Just because you belong to “some are not” assemble, does not mean you have inherited the right of lashing out at the ones who do not. You have chosen what you desired, so be it. 

No wonder Don Corleone from The Godfather said- “Women will be saints in heaven while we men shall burn in hell.” Men need to understand that women these days have the knack of being socially apt; it is your faulty perception that makes them socially awkward. Just because you see a woman hanging out with men, you categorize her to me ill-mannered, and open for all, had you been in the very group, you, my dear friend would be found wandering in the lanes of wonderland. 

Look up before you look down on others; look within before you peep in to others; just because you have barricaded yourself from being what the so called society perceives as wrong does not mean you find others guilty and drag them down with you. And, as far as men are considered it is high time you stop walking the lanes of wonderland, you are all alone. You just don’t know it yet.

The Longing!

“She woke up wrapped in his arms and his breath warm and subdued caressed her forehead. The little grin on her face slowly grew and etched from ear to ear at the mere sight of him sleeping, for all she knew with deep conviction she was destined to wake up like this for many years to come, desperately hoping, she clung on to him even tightly.”

She woke up to the screeching sound of the alarm, dreadfully she made her way through the sheets below which she lay, she saw him sleeping, envied and navigated her way through the room to the washroom. She woke her children up, made the breakfast, packed lunch for everyone. She combed her hair; let it loose a little (he liked it that way) wore his favorite color sari; she put on a little face cream not too much that her husband would scowl, but enough to deepen the intensity of the compliment that would follow which would make her heart skip a beat.

“So, how do I look?” she would ask.

“You exude radiance; you look like the one of shining apples from the orchids of Kashmir.”

“She blushed and snapped in curtly, I know!”

She waited by the phone with bated breath for him to call and pour in the news and gossip from the office, not to mention the daily praise for the food he ate for lunch. She clung on to the phone, the speaker digging her ears in a fear that she might miss out on something. She savored every word of their conversation off and on the phone, during the day and night.

She loved the little talks they had at nights, the long walks they took after supper but dreaded the little quarrels they had at times, fearing that she might end up waiting the entire day for his phone call the day after. She knew he fought because he cared, he just chose a different way to show it.

She wished she could salvage every moment of them being together, fearing they would perish she wanted to save them all, albeit she knew that she might falter at one point of time, because life is all about hardships and only few have the chance to face them all let alone the courage to face them.

And, then one day the clock struck and the time came to a whining halt. Memories started breaking down to smithereens, and then they slowly started to fade, etchings only deepened during the pursuit of letting them not fade; but time erodes everything, memories were no exception.

The clinking sound of the alarm broke in through the silence that filled the room, she dreaded it more than ever, made an attempt to shut it but failed miserably, she woke up turned it off, looked beside not a single muscle of her face moved, dauntless she looked around and pulled the bed sheet over her face.

She looked herself in the mirror and was greeted by a small, frail and expressionless woman. She picked out a sari randomly and loathed the fact that she forgot the art of choosing. She let her hair tangle not bothering to comb it, nor acknowledging the fact that she had to put on a little face cream, for all she knew the compliments that usually followed ceased to pamper her ears. They ceased with him.

She kept herself busy during the day, because she dreaded the fact that being idle would make her hope for the phone to ring one last time. The long talks, walks and the little quarrels no longer made her day, but, longing, momentary satisfaction, and dreading happiness do; dreading because she was guilty of being a part of it all alone.

The longing to hold hands, savor his voice, dress for him, laugh with him, to fill him emotionally and physically elevated with every passing day, and she knew longing was the least she could do to bring back the memories from the past. The past she couldn't defy, the past she couldn't stand up against, the past that she lost him to.

She no longer radiates, but the etchings and wrinkles have grown too quickly and have dampened the charm she carried, she still looks like one of the apples from the orchids of Kashmir, but the one, which will fall at the lightest of winds.

She!

She loved him at his best; she loved him at his worst. She loved him every minute, every second of the day. She knew what it was to love someone and be loved at the same time. He on the other side loved her only when he wanted to, for he never knew what it was to love someone. He thought love was never his gig, but little did he know that it was the only gig, which, since time immemorial had made living of the people worthwhile.

She couldn’t kindle the thought of being away from him, she at all times wanted him beside her and he on the other hand thought otherwise and didn’t care enough. She loved the way he spoke, the way he annoyed her, the way he ate, smiled and blushed, she managed to find him cute at all times no matter how low the magnitude was, he, was the reason for her smile.

She walked towards him beaming beatifically and said, “Good Morning Honey”.

“Morning”, he snapped curtly. He couldn’t help it and it was too late to have realized.

The smile that was etching from ear to ear slowly started to shrink, but she managed to hold it as long as she could, for all she knew she loved him the way he was, and was sure he would do better, sooner or later.

All his life, he had read and learnt the volumes of life in a different way, which was way different from what he was reading now. He had learnt the way of living life the hard way and was stubborn enough adhere to it, come what may. But, deep down inside he knew he loved her, he knew he wanted her, he knew she deserves to be loved back, he knew she has to get her share of happiness and pleasure, but he couldn’t help ignoring those realizations and giving her only a little. She never wore pride, he always did. She seldom cribbed, he often did. He cared a little, she cared more than anything.

She understood him and stood by his side, despite all his whims and caprices, and forgave him at all times, his mere sorry and laugh made her forget the dirtiest of their fights, she never fought nor argued, but kept her cool and let him blabber and argue in a louder tone of voice. Because she knew he meant nothing of what he said, and he thought he had won over her, but, had he kept score, he would have realized that he won all the times. No, it was never her fault, but she chose to be on the losing side instead, for all she knew, he liked winning.

He did find her cute, beautiful, praised her for what she is, loved her, made her happy, but the extent was nothing when compared to what she instilled on him. He never gave voice to his grievance, but she could feel his displeasure, and he was cute enough to deny it.  She on the other hand, gave a little voice to her discomfort and he made it vanish with a mere touch and smile. No, he is no magician but she loved him to that extent that these mere wounds inflicted by him would not last longer, but she knew he would last forever.

Had she asked him whether he would last forever, he would have denied it with his cute little explanation, and would lecture her about life, death and other crap, but she read him well, his eyes spoke more than him and she could read volumes out of them, his mere presence was enough to sense what was going through his mind.

“I Love you, honey”, she said, which sounded like a cute rhyme from a 3 year old's mouth.

“Okay”, he said funnily yet curtly. But, he did not realize he spoke too much with his eyes, and she read him well, and she read what she wanted to, and smiled, because she knew the change, has arrived!

Adios!

P.S Love someone back for what they give in, they would not have loved you if you were not worth in the first place! The sooner you realize, the better.