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    Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    slow burn

    “I’ll count to five. After that I wont listen to a word you say”, his tone as warm as ice.

    She knew he meant it, she knew she’d have to somehow wrap up her aching heart within the next five seconds. She began, unsteady, her words garbled by the inconsolable tears, “I…it’s hurting..”

    “one”

    “try…for once understand what…”

    “two”

    “…how can I make you understand ev…”

    “three.”

    “let me talk dammit!”

    “four”

    She was crying even more furiously by now, “I can’t talk like this…I..”

    “five. That’s it.”

    “you can’t keep doing this to me. Don‘t push me that way again…” she managed to say in between tears, “I won’t be able to go on like this…”

    “then get lost you bloody bitch!” his face turned red with anger, he turned picked up the chair and threw it at the door beside her. She jumped up with fear and yet she couldn’t tell him how afraid she was. He ripped the intricate mirror off the wall and threw it across the room. She watched helplessly as glass flew all over the room. She was powerless, consumed by her own fear. A fear that agitated him even more.

    “WHORE! Bloody bitch!”

    She sobbed into her blanket, trying to muffle the sounds even more, “stop saying that…”, she managed to say in a feeble voice.

    He didn’t hear her. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door shut on her face.

    2:30am.

    His last words still echoed in the room. She felt stifled…she wanted to run away. But she had nowhere to go. He was all she had in the city. Besides, how could she walk out in the streets when the tears just refused to stop. She had to divert her mind…she looked around the room. It was a mess. She took a deep breath and got up to straighten the chair. There were shards of glass everywhere…she started to pick them up one by one. She kept telling herself that he would be back soon. He knew she couldn’t be alone at night, “he knows it very well”, she repeated loudly as if to silence the reverberations of their argument. Just then she heard her phone ring. A message.

    Won’t come home tonight. Will be back tomorrow morning.

    She calmly placed her phone on the table and continued to pick up the miniscule pieces of glass from the carpet. Her tears now knew no bounds. She scolded herself, but nothing helped. She dropped the pieces of glass and sat down on the floor, sobbing helplessly. She chose this life. Again. She believed in his goodness. Again. It was her decision and she’d given too much of herself to turn back now. She loved him in ways that only she could understand. She couldn’t let go. She wouldn’t. Not anymore.

    She picked up a piece of the broken glass and very deliberately ran it on her leg just above the mark she’d made two days back. She felt a slight burn and watched as a tiny drop of blood surfaced. All the pain she felt suddenly rushed to her leg and she felt surprisingly lighter. And then, nothing. She felt nothing at all except the slight burn. She got up and cleaned up the broken glass.

    Then she went around the house turning off each and every light and with that putting out every little silly notion she had about her love-story. His temper would never change - it would probably get worse. He wouldn’t stop the abusive language no matter how much he promised. It wouldn’t change. She’d never be cherished the way she hoped to be. She’d never just be breathtakingly beautiful to him. Her heart would never again skip a beat at suddenly being caught off-guard by a kiss. He’d never come to her first and beg for her forgiveness irrespective of who‘s fault it was. She’ll never know what it’s like to pretend not forgive just for fun. He wouldn’t steal her away from the crowd…he wouldn’t ignore the crowd to be with her. Yes, he loved her…she was aware of that. But he would never ever again remind her of the love he’d once promised. She drew the curtains till there was complete darkness. Morning he’d be back and pretend everything’s fine and she’d have no option but to play along. One mismatched word or behavior would anger him furthermore.

    Wrapped in a blanket of broken dreams and promises long lost, she drifted off to sleep and dreamt of the love she could only get in dreams.

    Friday, April 03, 2009

    Girl friend(s)

    I need a girl friend right now. Now before you, my lovely readers get any ideas…not a girlfriend, I mean a girl (who’s a) friend. Yes, I’ve almost always been ‘one of the guys’ but this is a little too much - even for me. All and I mean ALL my friends here are boys!! Yes, there are many girls I know here but I just never ‘hit it off’ with any of them. It’s almost frustrating sometimes…there are just so many things I miss, But alas! *sigh*


    Here are a few, just off the top of my head…
    Watch a chick-flick in PJ’s minus the oh-so-macho-(funny??!) comments…and at least one of us crying.

    Sleepovers. With vodka, soda, smokes, popcorn, ice cream, late-night radio and a whole lot of secrets.

    Ah. Ice-cream. An important entity in girl-bonding. whole slabs/ buckets and plenty of spoons. Bowls banned. Butterscotch. Yum.

    Gorging on junk food without a damn care in the world! Yes women are health conscious and men are the big eaters. But when it comes to junk food- we have no competition.

    Spending hours in a bookstore without being hurried.

    Shopping! It’s ZERO fun shopping with a guy. Haahah…unless they have a purpose or they’re getting something out of it *wink* *wink*…their attention span/ interest lasts for at most 5 minutes. Oh! And you cannot linger in the lingerie section no matter how much the laces and the satins beckon you!!

    Group Hugs. Let me rephrase - bear hugs. Hearty, uninhibited affection. Cure for everything.

    Collective drooling and sighing over Johnny Depp, Richard Gere, Hugh Jackman, George Clooney, Arjun Rampal, Rahul Bose, etc etc etc (yes babe, Farhan Akhtar too!).

    Get-togethers without beer!

    Crying without being embarrassed and comforted by the fact that the other person actually knows exactly what’s hurting us.

    Lastly, I’m sorry boys but…NOT addressing each other (oh-so-casually) with filthy cusses. Oh wait. NOT cussing while talking for let‘s say 10 minutes!! (come on boys, admit it…you all do it!). Oh no, mister, I’m not done yet! I miss going through one day, ONE DAY without hearing a bathroom joke or a reference to some bathroom activity!


    Well…these are just a few of the gazillions things I miss. I just listed down the things I miss most right now.

    I miss you girlies…
    Pearl
    Mou
    Piu di
    Babe
    Shakun