Monday 27 May 2013

Just You and Me

(excerpt from the non-compiled mass of material in my head)

Pia took a deep breath, and thought, “It’s now or never”. She knew; she just knew that she had to tell him today; to let it all out.
She went to the other room where Imran was sitting on the sofa, munching on his McDonalds meal. She paused right in front of him, interrupting his view of the very intense cricket match, and switched off the television. “Oye! Kya kar rahi hai?!…” he was just beginning to protest.

“We need to talk, Imran”, she said.

“Okay, but can’t it wait till the match gets over? I mean, it was- ”

“No! I need to talk to you now!” she cut him, furious and restless.

“Okay, okay. Relax. What is it?” he stood up, the burger still in his hand.

Mustering all the courage Pia had inside her, she almost blurted out, “I love you!”
Imran’s very dear meal fell off his hand, his face suddenly drained of all its colour, and he looked at Pia like he’d just witnessed a massacre.

“Yes, Imran, I love you.” She went on. “I’ve loved you since our very first day at kindergarten when you stole my lunch. I’ve loved you since the day you helped me swing. I’ve loved you since you stood up for me when others made fun of my geeky glasses…” She paused, laughing at the memory.

“From childhood to teenage and till this very minute, my love for you has only grown. I’ve known it since forever, but I could never admit it to myself because I knew it would be worthless.” Tears started clouding her vision. “My family will never allow an inter-caste marriage and your parents will never ever accept a Hindu girl into your family. But in spite of knowing it all, I still can’t stop loving you. It’s just getting too much; it’s consuming me! I don’t even know if you feel the same way about me; I don’t know if our friendship will even last or not after this, I know this will change everything; but I suppose it’s worth it.” She looked at him trying to comprehend his thoughts, but he seemed too baffled. “I’ve rehearsed this confession inside my head a million times and now I know I’m just blabbering crap but the point is… I love you. And if miraculously, even if by a teeny-meeny percentage, you feel the same way about me, then I promise we can face this together. I’ll be with you, you’ll be with me, and it will all be okay. I-” Before she could utter anything else, Imran pulled her close, and kissed her. For a second, they were both quite, and then with a smile, Imran took her face in his hands, and kissed her in a way that felt urgent; like their feelings had been buried for way too long. Pia felt giddy with happiness and couldn’t help but smile in between that very much waited moment.
When they finally drew apart, Pia breathed after what felt like a very long time. It was Imran who broke the silence, “I thought I would propose you”, flashing that smile Pia was crazy about, “Yeah sure, in our graves.” He hugged her tight, and Pia lost her tiny self in his embrace, the banter back and dazzling. “We’ll find a way, we always do.” He said, and she just lightly nodded her head.

“Okay, now can I please go back to the match?” She hit him on the elbow lightly.

“Pyaar se bolo pehle”
 

“Arrey aur kitne pyaar se bolu?!”
 

Aise bolo ‘Baby, please give me the remote.’ “

Imran folded his arms, faking exasperation, and imitating her, he said, “Baby, pleeease give me the remote.”

“Haha! That’s my buoy!” Grinning like a kid, she switched on the TV and they sat on the sofa, watching the match and teasing each other like they had been doing for the past fifteen years.

“By the way, I’m not cleaning up the mess you made with that soliloquy of yours”, Imran said, and their laughter echoed.

Two friends, two religions and one great love.

They knew they would sail through it.

Saturday 11 May 2013

Unanswered

Why’d you let me go? Why didn’t you hold on?
Or was it me? Was it me who messed it up?
Was it me who wasn’t strong enough?
Maybe yes... or maybe not.

It could have been red roses,
Pink hearts and champagne,
But we chose the path of thorns instead.
We could have slept in peace,
But we stayed up all night.
We could have had a hearty laugh,
But we cried… broken and tired.
We could have stayed away,
But we chose to come close instead.

You should have…
You should have pulled me back,
Should have looked me in the eye,
Taken my hand and kissed me
With a promise.
You should have said the words
I’d been dying to hear,
You should have made me believe,
In you, in us.
But you let me go,
And I let it all slip away...
True that I turned weak,
But did you stay by?
Did you hear the pain in my voice?
Did you turn back, just once?
I was waiting…right there.
A little push, a little bit of faith
Was all I needed.


Did the rose wilt to bits?
Did our love grow that weak?
Did the fondness melt away?
Did you want me no more?
‘Cause I did my waiting,
I pierced my heart, again and again,
For you, just for you.
But I couldn’t see the light,
And darkness was all we’d left in between.

You’re gone now, leaving me behind,
For bad or worse, I know not,
And left alone, I’m nothing but lost…without you.
But your voice still lingers,
The memories still hover.
Somewhere inside the pages of my books,
Somewhere at the end of my soggy pillow,
Somewhere in my unreasoned smile,
Somewhere in every soft cry.

Can we break the circle?
Can we undo the past?
Can we please start afresh?
Get back to not knowing each other
And discover everything all over again?
Can we give Us a chance?
Even if just once,
Even if for one last time?
Can we? Please?













Sunday 5 May 2013

Marbles... ♫ ♫

Clinch, clinch, clinch
I hear them clinging together,
Side to side, wall to wall,
Moving along like troops of rainbows.

Dingy lanes or posh streets
No boundaries to pull them down
They dance around and their tune follows,
Forever ebullient, forever bloated.

Shining under the scorching sun
And brimming along with the dim-lit stars,
Gliding through the rain-drenched roads
Green and blue, blue and green.

Dark palms holding white lines
And a few dreams of the sky,
Stones threaten to carve cracks,
But the marbles keep going on.






- Sayantani Sarkar.