SONGS FROM THE LOVELORN 
{2}

All the noise around me is drowned out in the screaming silence between us. His face is expressionless except the slight raise of his eyebrows. It would have gone unnoticed had it not been for my eyes painfully scrutinizing his expression. There is an unfathomable sparkle in his eyes. I start counting the seconds.

One, two, three… twenty-six, twenty-seven…forty-two, forty- three…sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two.

We have locked our eyes for 62 seconds. The most painful 62 seconds of my life. The most precious 62 seconds of my life! Suyash lets out a deep breath and looks down at his half-full glass of tea. He takes one more sip and looks up at me.

He: Since when?

Me: The very first time when you spoke in the class to introduce yourself, I was drawn to your voice. Even before I noticed you, it was your voice which attracted me. I liked the confidence in your voice. The third day of class, you came and sat at my table. I was surprised at how easy it was for us to slip into a conversation. I was quite impressed…

He (slowly shakes his head): I respect your feelings, Vasana. But let’s face it, you are only infatuated to me.

There is not even a hint of mockery or disappointment in his voice. It is frank and transparent like the gurgling water of a pristine river.

Me: That’s what I told myself when I kept looking forward to seeing you every day even if it meant for just a short span of 90 minutes. But one day changed everything. That evening we stood speaking to each other after the class was over. You were enthusiastically telling me about how you wanted to be an entrepreneur and suddenly you asked me a very heart-warming question.

The conversation:

He: What is the one thing that you love to do?

Me (sigh): Poetry… I love writing poems. I used to write many but now I don’t. I gave it up a couple of years ago.

He (frowning): Why?

Me: I had to devote time for my academics. I couldn’t make time for poems. Moreover my parents didn’t approve of it. They kept raising objections to my passion ever since I stepped into 12th standard. They were scared that I would end up taking literature or English in under-graduation. So I gave up writing poems.

He: Such a lame excuse! You are a loser.

Me (shocked): Excuse me?!

He: I am not taking back my words. I mean it and I will say it again. You are a loser.

His words really offend me. I look at him wide-eyed.

He: Don’t blame your parents or anybody else. You gave up your passion without fighting for it. Only you are to be blamed.

His words tear through my conscience.

Me (looking down and meekly): What can I do? People don’t value poetry anymore. They don’t even have the patience to read and understand a poem. They only ridicule me.

He takes a step closer to me and takes my hand in between his hard hands.

He: Look at me, Vasana.

I slowly look up at his eyes which have a steely resolve.

He: This society is filled with idiots. You don’t have to live for them. This is your life and you should take a stand. If you can’t make a decision even at 22, then when will you do it? We love our parents but that doesn’t mean we should kill our dreams for them. At the end of the day we have to live our life. Nobody is going to do it for us. So don’t give a damn about what others think or say. Fight for your passion, don’t give up your dream.

His last words still ring hard and clear in my ears. It was those words which gave a rebirth to my passion.

Me: You told me to fight for my passion and that is what I did. That very night I wrote a poem. It was about love. I had fallen in love with you. After that I wrote many poems and for most of them, you were my inspiration. You appreciated my poems and also criticized them brutally. You kept my dream alive.

He strokes his chin, deep in thought.

He: I never thought that I could make such a huge impact on you. But I am sorry, I cannot reciprocate your feelings. I never intended to hurt you but this makes me feel terrible.

There is an unusual tenderness to his voice. I swallow hard and look away to compose myself. His words don’t surprise me because all along I had a feeling that he was not going to accept my love. Nevertheless, his refusal breaks my heart. Yes, it does and it is painful.

He: I am really fond of you, Vasana. But we will not lead a happy life together. Knowing me is completely different from living with me. We both are poles apart. Initially, for a few days you will put up with my insanity and recklessness, but very soon we will grow tired of each other.

Me (slightly annoyed): You are just over-thinking.

He (leaning forward): And you are simply not thinking! (letting out a soft sigh) Had any other girl proposed to me, I would have out rightly refused and walked away. But you mean a lot to me. Usually, I don’t make friends with girls. Even if I did, it didn’t last for long. Somehow we connect at a deeper level and I don’t want to lose you. You have given me a very special place in your heart, one that I can never reach. If we take this towards commitment, you won’t take long in discovering that I am not the one for you. By staying together we will only end up hating each other and I won’t be able to forgive myself for it. I like the way we are, let’s not ruin it.

Hearing his words, my love for him only multiplies. His each word is dripping with affection.

How can you say all this if you don’t love me?

Slowly, his words begin to make sense. I pull out a few sheets of paper and hand them to him. He takes them from me eagerly and reads through them.

Me: They are all poems which have been inspired by you. Two of them have been made into songs for the album.

Suyash is at loss for words. Quietly he reads through each poem. I finish eating my fudge. It is a little comforting. The pain is slowly ebbing away.

He: They are lovely. Can I keep them?

Me (nodding with a weak smile): They are yours, as much as they are mine.

He: I am sorry again, but I have no regrets. I know that this is the best that can happen to us. I would rather be your muse, than your lover…

Me: I thought that your refusal would devastate me, yet I survived. Maybe because deep down I always knew that we were not meant to be together, but never wanted to accept it. One thing is certain, you will still continue to be an inspiration for my poems. A poetess will never fall out of love with her muse.

He gives me a rare smile and it reflects on my face. We both stand up to leave. Unexpectedly, he comes closer and gives me a hug. His long arms engulf me with a pleasant warmth. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him. I have waited endlessly to feel so secure, yet so free.

A hug from my muse…

It lasts only for a few moments.

He: All the best for your album. I will be there for the launch. Take care, Vasana.

Me: You take care too. Thank you for everything, Suyash.

He gently strokes my cheek and walks away carrying his jacket. I stand there watching his back until he is out of the coffee shop. Slowly I pick my bag and walk towards the threshold. I step out and rain drops caress my face.

You gave a new lease of life for my passion. We both love each other and we know it. Our love is too precious to be locked in a relationship. It is like the murmur of breeze, the flow of river, the flash of lightening… Unknown to this world, let our love be treasured in our hearts. Nobody will ever know that the enigmatic brooding man in my poems is you. Let this world fall in love with you like I did…

                                       The End

Comments

  1. The last paragraph...
    Say it all.
    A great ending sahana.
    We generally see for a happy ending n this story is those which says "happiness is in wanting happiness for others"
    Beautifully written :-)

    ReplyDelete

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