With her stilettos in her hand….she walked bare feet. Wearing the dress she wore for the event that happened last night in her college. She could have borrowed his T which she wore that night when she stayed at his place. But she knew that they are not going to meet again and there would be no chance to return his T-shirt back. Moreover, she did not want to carry any of his belongings with her. She could have taken an auto rickshaw. She should have. But last night when she reached his place, she asked him to keep her money. Crumped currencies of 10s and 50s.
She has not slept all night. It was her plan to stay at his place…he, his best friend, she and HER. Without knowing that it would be the last night of their togetherness, their years long nexus…more than half a decade old friendship…it would all end that night….she made the plan and she suffered.
Drunk. All of them. Conversations. Confessions.Music. And then, half asleep…half in senses...drowsy yet awake….she saw them.TOGETHER. A thousand questions raised in a second within her. A million thoughts crossed her mind. She felt suffocated. Dead. Betrayed. Not that they shared any ‘named’ relation…She and Him. But it has always been there…that extra circle…that inner line erased only for him. He has always been the most special person in her life. Her best friend. Her alter ego. Her companion, her confidante. And so has been she. Before, HER.
The moment he raised his voice on her that night, she knew it’s over. The bond. The trust. It’s all over. It was till 3 in the morning when she sat in his kitchen. Alone. Crying. Sobbing.Thinking where it went all wrong. It was 4 in the morning she asked him, she wants to leave…at that very moment.
And at 5, she stood up…legs shaking, head aching from hangover. …splashed cold water on her face…changed her clothes..kept his T-shirt she wore last night on washing machine and opened the door to leave. But before she left, she turned and looked at him….sleeping. She looked at him one last time. Briefly. His eyes…his lips…his hair she never allowed to cut short. And the mole on his upper lip. He still was the most special person in her life. A tear dropped from her left eye. All those years flashed in front of her eyes. All those moments were mere memories now.
And then…she left…with her stilettos in her hand…bare feet…chocking…she walked out….of his house….of his life….of THEIR life………………
2 comments:
I thought this place had changed, left old memories (or was it fiction), but I guess, some things always bite back.
Regards,
Blasphemous Aesthete
The place has changes...and so has the person. But there will always be few memories that remain alive...within us. OR maybe...sometimes, we need to feel the pain in order to feel alive!
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