The mist in her unbelieving eyes resonated in his own as he stepped away from her, leaving her, hands helplessly outstretched, near the gate.The old gate which had been a witness to all that had ever been between them, stood still as ever, all-observing,silent. The hurt in her eyes broke his heart into a million pieces. "This is proving to be a lot tougher than expected" - he said to himself as he walked his way, purposefully oblivious to her sobs, growing increasingly inaudible with each passing step. As he grew increasingly closer to his final destination, his mind grew increasingly clouded with the visages of the only woman he had ever loved , in the truest sense of the word.
The sights and sounds of that fog-beaten winter evening in Delhi still echoed true and clear.He was sitting in his favourite coffee-shop near the large glass window, watching the pre-occupied metropolis go by in its own trance.Apni hi dhun mein chalta jaata hai ye shahar....he said to himself, deliberately delaying the last sip, as had always been his wont.He was about to leave when he saw her walk in.Clad in a simple salwar kameez, she seemed to be a total misfit in the plastic sophistication of cofee commerce. Yet, there was something disarmingly appealing about her that made him do something he would have never allowed himself to do - fall for her.He had always prided himself on his ability to connect to people and he made good use of this as he walked over to her and introduced himself. That small introduction had then gone on to reach bigger proportions, so much so that today, she was the only thing that could have stood between him and his ultimate goal.
"I am leaving, to never return. I won't tell you where and I am not taking you along.This is where we meet for the last time" - to utter those few words had taken an Herculean effort on his part. Even more difficult was looking her into the eyes as she gazed at him blankly, not wanting to believe what she had just heard.After what seemed to be an eternity, as the import of his words finally struck her, she broke down like a crystal vase hitting the cold stone floor.She had pleaded with him to take her along or atleast to tell her as to why he was doing this to her .She would die without him - she said.At that moment, something burnt with so much intensity within him that he felt like pulling her towards him and embrace her, never to part again. Only the numb awareness of what lay in store for him prevented him from doing so.What had followed thereafter was emotional mayhem as her grief and his enacted antipathy collided in a display of intimate pathos.With the greatest difficulty, he had managed to extricate himself from her desperate embrace and walk away - afraid to look behind, afraid that he would not be able to stop himself from going back to her.
As he reached the Secreteriat building, waves of doubt raised within him - would his action achieve what he had been told it would.He quelled them, telling himself that this was nothing but her that was making him think so.As he entered the gates, he absent-mindedly felt the underside of his jacket.Everything was in place.Precison plannning was another thing he prided himself on and this was his final plan.Crossing the gates and the foyer, he entered the main hall.Dodging the security had been easier than he had accounted for.Looking at the multitude of people inhabiting the hall,he knew that he had selected the right time and location.Now he had to act before anything went wrong.
As he slided his hand under the jacket and flicked the switch, the only image he could see in his eyes was hers, the only sound that rung clear in his ears was hers.The million smithereens that his body blew into were nothing compared to the way her heart had broke that morning.
P.S: I did write this piece, but I find myself unable to find a suitable title for it.If you feel you can do so, you are free to visit the comments section and drop your suggestions there.
:-)
The sights and sounds of that fog-beaten winter evening in Delhi still echoed true and clear.He was sitting in his favourite coffee-shop near the large glass window, watching the pre-occupied metropolis go by in its own trance.Apni hi dhun mein chalta jaata hai ye shahar....he said to himself, deliberately delaying the last sip, as had always been his wont.He was about to leave when he saw her walk in.Clad in a simple salwar kameez, she seemed to be a total misfit in the plastic sophistication of cofee commerce. Yet, there was something disarmingly appealing about her that made him do something he would have never allowed himself to do - fall for her.He had always prided himself on his ability to connect to people and he made good use of this as he walked over to her and introduced himself. That small introduction had then gone on to reach bigger proportions, so much so that today, she was the only thing that could have stood between him and his ultimate goal.
"I am leaving, to never return. I won't tell you where and I am not taking you along.This is where we meet for the last time" - to utter those few words had taken an Herculean effort on his part. Even more difficult was looking her into the eyes as she gazed at him blankly, not wanting to believe what she had just heard.After what seemed to be an eternity, as the import of his words finally struck her, she broke down like a crystal vase hitting the cold stone floor.She had pleaded with him to take her along or atleast to tell her as to why he was doing this to her .She would die without him - she said.At that moment, something burnt with so much intensity within him that he felt like pulling her towards him and embrace her, never to part again. Only the numb awareness of what lay in store for him prevented him from doing so.What had followed thereafter was emotional mayhem as her grief and his enacted antipathy collided in a display of intimate pathos.With the greatest difficulty, he had managed to extricate himself from her desperate embrace and walk away - afraid to look behind, afraid that he would not be able to stop himself from going back to her.
As he reached the Secreteriat building, waves of doubt raised within him - would his action achieve what he had been told it would.He quelled them, telling himself that this was nothing but her that was making him think so.As he entered the gates, he absent-mindedly felt the underside of his jacket.Everything was in place.Precison plannning was another thing he prided himself on and this was his final plan.Crossing the gates and the foyer, he entered the main hall.Dodging the security had been easier than he had accounted for.Looking at the multitude of people inhabiting the hall,he knew that he had selected the right time and location.Now he had to act before anything went wrong.
As he slided his hand under the jacket and flicked the switch, the only image he could see in his eyes was hers, the only sound that rung clear in his ears was hers.The million smithereens that his body blew into were nothing compared to the way her heart had broke that morning.
P.S: I did write this piece, but I find myself unable to find a suitable title for it.If you feel you can do so, you are free to visit the comments section and drop your suggestions there.
:-)
3 comments:
'the last cheer'...howz that for a title for a story that spks of the man who prides himself in all those things he did and yet cannot rejoice...
u write beautifully! u know that already, don't ya?
Brilliant man simply awesome literary work....u gonna make it big sumday.....am sure of that [:D].....keep it up and cheers!
Nice one!
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