Skip to main content

THE END....

Its over now forever.

It was the only one

we had of us

together.


I found the torn
bits by the door.

The edges were
gone. The images
remained, but

smudged.


Its all blurred now,

but it was whole once.


Yes blurred. That is the right word now. It was the only photograph they ever had of them, of them together. In all those years, all those five years of togetherness.They had all but one photograph of them together. It wasnt by far the greatest, but it had both of them together. He was the one who always took pictures. Pictures of her, in various forms, places etc. Actually the whole time she was with Mike, those beautiful moments they shared, he captured all of them. But it was just her in those pictures.
She knew, she couldnt keep him tied to her. However gentle he was with, in his heart he was like a wild horse. He yearned to be set free, to discover new places, to explore.But then, when you are so madly in love, you can always dream, rather hope...that he was yours completely. She was sure, he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She had known this from the very beginning. But she never told him this.

He was always on the move. Suddenly one day she would find him gone but he was back soon there after. " I miss the warmth of your arms, Sarah", he always said. She missed him immensely but never complained. Nor did she ever ask him, where did he go? What did he do? Nothing. She was content that he always came back to her.His disappearing acts became more frequent and more prolonged. But Sarah continued to him and even more.

It was during their last summer that they went to fair. Mike knew sarah had a fascination for balloons and he bought them for her. " Its ridiculous Mike," Sarah had complained but he knew she loved them anyways. The fair was lovely. Vibrant colours, silly games and magic shows, it had them all. They went for everything. Sarah was content. Yes they took many pictures...but of Sarah only.

Towards the evening, they came upon the photobooth. " Lets get a picture of us together, Mike", Sarah pleaded. " No Sarah, its rubbish". But he had to give in. "its only for you I'm doing this Ok."

And that was the only picture they had. She had pulled him close to her, kissing him on the cheek. The smile lighting up her eyes. He had made a disgusted face and groaned.

Mike had been horrified with end result. But she was estatic. "You keep it, Sarah" Mike had said. He had left that night. But this wasnt the last time she would see him. He had left no number or address again. All she could do, was to wait. But he never came, not at least for six months. This was the longest time he was gone.

Silly as she was (as we all are) in love, she had hoped he would come back right to her.

And he did come, the doorman had informed her one rainy afternoon. She rushed the three flights upto her apartment. But something was wrong, she sensed immediately. He wasnt there inside now. Where was he? Something was surely wrong. Suddenly her mind had drifted to the photograph at her bedside table. She was right. It was gone too, just like him.

Then she has found the pieces left by the door. The pieces of that photograph which would never be the same, he had torn it. Why did Mike do this?

Where was he?

Just pieces by the door. All smudged now by the drops of rain falling through the window. It was over now. He would never come back. It was all over.





Comments

  1. That was a lovely love story....but i guess not a real one.
    Real love stories dont have a happy ending.But they actually don't end.
    Nice blog!! U are blogrolled! keep writing.tk cr

    ReplyDelete
  2. @akanksha
    Yes, real stories dont always have a happy ending and sometimes they do end...thanx for stopping by.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Don give up on love.. love vil come again wen ur least expectin it..

    ReplyDelete
  4. Whoa! who says that ur bad at writin fiction?
    damn U! what the hell were u doing all these days?
    nice work!

    peace & love
    Jeevy

    ReplyDelete
  5. A beuatiful piece!!!
    loved it ..
    :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. fantabulous!! i am speechless nikita its awesome yaaar! wow!

    ReplyDelete
  7. when is your book coming out?

    :)

    ReplyDelete
  8. great work... u really moved me.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

GO ahead, say it out loud!

Popular posts from this blog

Mind vs the heart

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Picture courtesy: Google. Only for representation purpose.
Standing on the highway, Roads leading both ways to somewhere, I stand still and wonder, Where do I belong?
The soothing lullabies of the green mist fairies call.  With promises to wrap me in the cool calm fog, Holding me in wet, gentle caresses, lulling the storm within. 
The call of the shrill, salt-laden sea sirens,  from the sun-baked rocks, Pull me back To join them as they make me one, in the fathomless abyss of wonders unseen. 
I lament my fragile being,  Born with one heart, not two, Torn between the ebb and flow of waves, And earthy scents in muddy dew. 
Both offer me refuge,  Cloaking me whole in their embrace, Dust to dust, flesh to flesh and soul to soul. 
In this battle between the mind and the heart, The heart but loses steam,  Leaving me stranded on a path to nowhere, never to be seen. 
My mind has been wrought with depression and all things crappy. This is a result of binge-watching a…

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).


But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…

I Wonder What Ants do on Rainy Days…

Source: Google Images
On days when the sun has abandoned us, hiding behind the grey, moody clouds. Do they sit inside their hills and wonder out loud? Do they stare outside at the rain, measuring the raindrops, letting thoughts splotch all over? Does the earthy petrichor take them down the memory lane? Or are they content with what nature has to offer? It is a part of their lives, isn’t it? They dredge up foods daily, diligently build their hills, even if it is to serve their queen, only to enjoy it on days like this, no? Maybe they do take stock of things, of their bearings. They ought to sleep it off, take a day to rest or do they lament on the lost time?
Unlike me.
When I gaze out, a gazillion thoughts fly by; some worthy of the pen, some so disturbing that I often question my sanity. I like the grey skies though. They seem like textured canvases waiting for me to scribble something. The lazy raindrops wetting the streets below and casting a temporary stain on window ledges bring a…