Come on Karan now stop staring at it, he admonished himself! So many times he expects it to ring. But it only rings when he is least expecting it…. And irony is that it flashes the number which he has deleted in the useless attempts of ‘getting over’. How funny is that he deletes the number as if he will be able to ever erase it from his memory. In fact when he had saved it also he had memorized it by heart , but probably he saved it with some particular name and loved reading it flashing on his mobile screen. Those lovy dovy names like ‘cute2’ ‘janu’ ‘sweetu’ ‘cutie pie’ ‘honey’ etc. How thrilled he use to feel reading these words and use to start the conversation with the same word … ‘Did my cute2 got up…?’ ‘What is my jaanu doing?’ ‘Cutie pie I love u so so much’.. and what not. And the sound of that smile on the other side of the phone use to make his days, week, years,eons. Yes! Then he was sure of these facts. The facts, that life will end in her arms and he use to hum it to her ..
He knows life is not a three hour movie where all the meeting-loving-confusion-hatred-realisation-reunion will happen within no time … but then he is a human, “just a plain human”. It tears him apart to see that he now belongs to the category of “jilted after use”. Though reality has jolted him and now his queries have also gone under a silent death “She loves me or she loves me not”. He has started removing the question mark from the end of the statement and started reading it as a confirmation.
Finally amidst of random everyday fight of surviving in the ‘industry recession’ he has forgotten about his ‘love life’ recession decline and death. But then God has his own intentions for him. For he is Karan and he has to pass a test on each and every walk of Life.
One fine day the same number flashes, the same number which he remembers by heart, even better than his DOB and passport no. He wonders if it’s a dream/nightmare or something which his numb heart/mind has forgotten to acknowledge.
After quarreling with his thoughts, he picks it up to acknowledge a familiar voice. A voice more familiar than his own. The one which held the reins of his life, the one which held the power to lift up his spirits, no matter what. The one which he could have happily died hearing!
Karan: hello
Hers: hi
Karan: yeah tell me
Hers: ummm actually
Karan : Hmmm ohh achcha
Hers: what about
Karan: yeah that
Hers: Blah blah
Karan: Blah blah
------------ Conversation which is being pulled. Sentences which are squeezed somehow. Nods which are forced. Unusual talks .. for the sake of conversation.. Nothing concrete, nothing meaningful.. no one wants to keep the phone , though the uneasiness can be sensed right through the empty spaces in the conversation. Silently blessedly, his battery conks off!
He looks at the phone in wonderment, all the while he waited to complain about so many things and what happened? He did not even speak a second about the past? No questions on why when what etc…?
He wonders then why the call was ..?
He speaks out finally to that pic which he has still saved on his laptop … I feel sorry … !!
I don’t feel sorry for what happened between us.
I don’t feel sorry that we are not together today
I don’t feel sorry that we are alone today
I don’t feel sorry that we might not connect ever again
I don’t feel sorry that we did not discuss anything concrete
I don’t feel sorry that you misunderstood me
I don’t feel sorry that you will never know that I loved you
I feel sorry for the fact that ‘You don’t even know that you still love me so much’ …
The most important thing in communication is to hear what is not being said, and he has always been an expert in reading between lines. Suddenly a weight lifts up from his shoulders and he looks at his own reflection. He is not a Loser as he always thought he was. Sometimes Defeat or Death is just a start!
P.S: ... Random Scribbling ..