"Madan! Stop it!"
"Of course! Only when you stop being sensitive."
"So you do know I am sensitive about this.", I am so tired of this.
"Dude! You realise that you're dragging this way too much, right?"
He was right, I look like a loser. It was the notepad. Madan saw that with my belongings earlier and made a huge fuss about it. He was about to throw it away when I returned from a break. Everyone around was staring at us and it must have seemed like a quarrel. But yes, that was how normal talk between us sounded usually.
There was a piece of paper lying on the floor. That one was from her, she used to write me verses sometimes in return whenever I wrote her one. Even the fingers holding it then appeared different, my nails were in a very bad shape. She used to shape them for me. "Stop!"
Then I went back to work. I had been on a break, I stopped reciting for some days. But I did go to the cafe regularly, rather than sitting at home alone and going crazy. Anand and I had met there a few times and Madan joined me for a couple of days. Nothing unusual, I finished work and go home, after washing up, I went to the cafe to scribble down ideas. I had started to prepare for writing lyrics for a friend. The music director was a friend of Anand and he suggested me when they were hiring a lyricist. It was the first time for me to attempt writing lyrics, moreover, they needed it in Tamil. So I had begun to read and try writing in Tamil.
That day when I arrived at the cafe, the first thing I did was to fish the paper I put in the bag after arguing with Madan. I purposely did not bring Madan to the cafe to read Reema's verse.
"I yearn and grow,
Fall and wither,
Your adobe, my shelter,
At your sight, I falter."
His eyes swelled up with tears that he failed to hold back. Somewhere in his cognizance reminded him of how he had expected this piece of paper, to unfold the wounds he had kept untouched for his good. He was waiting for this feeling to wash away but her fragile voice ringing in his ears and the more did he felt the weight of loss between his ribs.
If ever he met her again, he pondered, he would lose his composure and once again surrender himself to her. Although he was aware of how wrong it was for himself, and the sake of his well being, he thought he could never say 'no' to her. "STOP!"
That was like a curse, I couldn't come out of. Without having any second thoughts, I boarded on a bus to… I did not care where I landed. All I wanted was to run away, leaving behind these thoughts. I got off in the bus stand and stood in the same place for an hour, there were many people, some travelled with family, lovers, friends and some did go alone. My neck and back hurt like hell that made me search for a chair to sit. There was a faint sound of someone calling me made it feel like a dream. To me, everything felt so unclear and hazy. A girl then shouted out my name. "Ashmit!!"
"I almost thought it wasn't you."
"Ah!", this girl, I didn't expect this.
"Um, you look so much outta here. Do you recognize me?"
I did know her, but the timing was not the right one. I hesitated a bit but she introduced herself to me.
"I'm Sita.", the guy from another day was tagging along with her that day too. I wondered if he was her bodyguard or something.
"Yeah, I remember you.", I glanced at the guy, "And you are?"
"He is my friend Prakash.", she seemed happier for some reason. I sensed a kinda cheerful version of her.
"Hello! Nice to meet you!", he was not particularly happy though while greeting me.
"Hello!", I paused, "I saw you guys another evening. You attended my recital, right?"
"Yeah, we did. My friend had some work, else we would have been there till the end."
We three walked to the chairs in the shed. The horn sound of the bus was louder that day or was it me being sensitive that day? Prakash bought a cup of tea for us and while sipping on the hot tea, Sita asked, "Are you going somewhere?"
If I were to somewhere? Even I had no answer to that question. The answer was, only if I were to accept the change. Another bluff from my thoughts. I sighed and told her that I was bored and ended up wandering here. For another five minutes, we sat there without exchanging any words. Then, Prakash and Sita started chatting.
They were talking about their plan, that's what I heard. She also informed me that they were neighbourhood friends. Her eyes and voice pitch changed whenever she talked with Prakash and it amazed how this girl was so expressive. I was impressed and wished for her to get her happiness. I was grateful to these two, I was not alone that night.
"It's getting late, I better go home now."
"Oh yeah! See you again, if I visit here again. Prakash will be here anyway."
"Get home safely.", Prakash said.
"Sure, and do visit again, Sita."
Sita got my social media id saying she wanted to read my verses. Surprisingly, she was a writer too. I read her two liners on my way home. One line got me,
"You are that distant land I've always wanted to go to."
I went to bed amazed at how relatable and satisfying that line was.