Just Emkaying: The one where it comes together

Jun 12, 2016

The one where it comes together

He slid open the sliding glass door of his book shelf, and looked inside. These were books that had a lot of sentimental value but didn't stand a chance against his collection of must read books just a shelf above. Most of them were notes or thoughts pen downed at moments of deep reflection or angst, and while time had erased the feelings and emotions, the books remained a testament.

(Read Part 1 here - The one with the wedding card)

And therefore knowing himself more than he'd known anything else, there it was. A dark maroon coloured, 1996 BMW yearly planner that had served as his diary for a good few years before it ran out of empty pages and more so his  patronage of writing. It was a book that was gifted to him when he started his 7th grade.,But it found it's use only during his college days, when the need to relieve the immense pressure that only self inflicted self doubt and guilt could bring.

(Read Part 2 here - The one with the tea stain)

He opened the book almost as if his fingers had a memory of their own. Skipping through the pages where he meticulously penned down his daily expenditures, but stopping just before the pages were he scribbled the lyrics of his favorite songs. He started reading, but it was a very short note on that date.But with each simple word, he re-lived the exact feeling that he had when he did write it down.

She looked very ordinary on what should have been the most beautiful moment of her life. Of course, she was dressed very elegantly as she always was, smiling her perfect smile with her perfect charm at every person that walked up on to the dias to congratulate them. Funnily, he didn't remember her husband at all, in fact he had not even looked at his face. But he could remember everything about her, and what kept haunting him was her eyes that were just darting from one person to the other, as if in a hurry to get it all over with. When he went up on stage, he imagined he would hug her one last time, and remember how it could have been between them, and then smile and wish her the very best. But that was not how it happened. In the 5 seconds that he was in front of her, she rebuked him for getting a bouquet when she had asked everyone not to, quickly ushered him to her side for a photograph, and the next moment he was off the dias in a sea of people. And it was all over, and he never saw her again.

But what he did do, was sit with the wedding card in his hand in his room for hours on end, as if encoding all his love, his pain, his misery, his joy into the white piece of paper, to be locked away for eternity until one day he would see her again, and be able to tell her what she meant to him.

* * *

She sipped her tea but her mind went back to the first monsoons in her college days. It used to be a 5 minute walk to catch a bus home, but that 5 minute walk was enough to get her half drenched.

It was on one such rainy day that she first noticed him. He stood out oddly because of two reasons - one was the way he spoke which clearly showed a non town upbringing, but more importantly the ease with which he interacted with everyone seemed to be quite unique. Like a breeze that would go around and touch everyone on their shoulder before starting all over again.

Oddly though, this breeze never reached her. She ignored this as an inconsequential anomaly, irrelevant to her existence in her own little world. But with each day this anomaly started getting wider and more stark. He'd talk to everyone but her, he see her but never meet her gaze, and in the rare moment she was in earshot he'd find somewhere else to be. Something was up, and she soon found out when one day one her way home, she ducked into an alley and waited to see who was following her - and there he was. She pounced at the opportunity, confronting him. As her glasses slipped down her nose, she resembled a stern matron at school, staring down her victim and it had the intended effect. She extracted a heavy fine from him that day - a cup of tea and lifelong memories.

Over one such weekly tea break, as they pored over notes and talked about classes, she realised that she had spilled tea over her book. At that moment, she dramatically announced that anyone who could get the stain out of her book would be her prince in shining armor. They laughed hysterically as only two close friends can over something so ridiculous.

She only saw that book again on the day she told him she was getting married, and gave him the first of her printed wedding cards. The book was left at her desk anonymously and when she had opened it, she found that the tea stain had considerably been erased, carefully. Perhaps with more time...

* * *


Read Part 1 here - The one with the wedding card
Read Part 2 here - The one with the tea stain

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