Well, here's my first story. And I have no agents yet, so I'll just publish it here :)
Btw, its long n not immersing or anything. Read only if really jobless, like I was when I wrote it :)
The Gift
It had been Christmas Eve when he had seen her for the first time.
And it is once again Christmas Eve in Landour.
Bitter winds, bitter memories of a little town that used to shiver and tremble, sing and dance at these times, assail him. He trudges on, adjusting his cap against a fresh onslaught of the relentless blizzard, drawing his coat about himself as he walks...
"So why are we here?"
Her voice was slightly muffled. She was, after all, female; she obviously wouldn't stop speaking though she was wolfing down her third naan. Her questioning, doe-like eyes scanned his face now, mutely repeating the same thing she had asked him just now. And this was standard fare, very much a part of Ananya as he knew her. Every time they met, he knew she would begin with this one line.
They were seated at the Regency, in Kolkata. The monsoon was a mere week from settling in fully, and the first showers had already come into the city, invigorating the people with fresh hope. This was the time when the fishermen in the villages would bid their wives farewell, as they ventured with their boats into the wide estuaries of the Sunderbans, trying to catch the prize hilsas that swam up the river. This was the time when the stalls at Victoria would do the year’s best business before the Pujas, as couples strolled the Memorial grounds all day and night. And this was the season when children would think of paper boats to float in the city’s drains. Later on, this very rain would be carrying both boat and child away…
But for now, the rains were just beginning. And as the cool, moist wind that heralded this beginning blew over her face, she smiled, closed her eyes, and stretched back to enjoy the breeze. He looked at her for a moment, then answered: ”There’s something I’ve brought for you.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d given things to her. And she knew that. She opened one eye, and gave him a sharp, quizzical look. “What?”, she said.
And then he said to her: “Will you marry me?”
Her fork fell on the plate with a clatter as she saw the ring. Her hands went over her mouth as she gazed, open-eyed, at him.
And in those eyes, all he had seen till then was fun, frolic and carelessness....
...today he thought he saw acceptance glisten for the first time…
The hospital stands in front of him...white, tall, simple and forbidding. From the outside, he can see the orderlies walk hither and thither, nurses carrying trays and clipboards went about, talking in fluent Pahari. He rushes through the glass doors, nearly bumps into a nurse. Instead of apologizing he says to her “My wife is admitted here….I am Mr. Avinash Pant from….”
The nurse’s annoyed look is soon replaced by concern, and she points towards a particular corridor. He thanks her hurriedly and rushes towards it. He runs through the corridor, breathing heavily.
And then he sees her, through the window of Ward 3. Broken, lifeless. But then, she smiles at him. Life, for an instant, flows back into her face. She had recognized him. Amidst all the terrible pain, she would have smiled like that for only one person in the whole world…
Involuntarily, his hand reaches up to brush off snow from the little bouquet of flowers he has brought along…
He lay awake at night, looking out at the twinkling lights of Landour, of his long-lost home…
Why did this place have to be their honeymoon, she had asked him so many times. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He had so many sweet memories of this town. He still remembered the chilly winters, the long treks over lush green hills to reach his secondary school, the humdrum as the lines of prayer flags on the roadsides all flapped as one in the mountain breeze….he had always, deep within, cherished the thought of returning here once. And it had grown, but, thankfully, hadn’t changed one bit…..
He looked at her face as she slept, beside him. What a ride it had been. The proposal. The disagreement of her ‘Born Tough’ father who had hollered at her “Whom do you love, me or him?” and the extremely filmy reply “It is possible to love two people, but only one can you love the most.” He smiled. The settling down in Mumbai. The struggle for a respectable livelihood. Returning in the evenings, expecting a warm dinner, and a warmer smile…
She turned around in bed and blindly felt for him. He laughed out aloud. She slowly opened one eye, and then sat up suddenly at once.
“Kya hua? Its…”She glanced up. ”..two in the night…why aren’t you sleeping?” She looked even more beautiful with her eyebrows arched in a rare expression of concern.
“Just woke up.” ,he lied. “Listen, I’m going for a stroll, ok?”
“But its snowing!”
He planted a quick kiss on her forehead.
“Stay safe. I’ll call you soon.”
And he lit up a cigarette and walked away into the blizzard towards the florist’s.
He stands beside her, watching the near-lifeless eyes slowly rise up to his face. And he knows his tears will not be enough to stop him speaking to her. To communicate, one last time.
He clasps her hand. Peace is slowly creeping into those eyes he knows so well. He knows she’ll be asleep within moments…
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Ananya..” , he says. His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t…ever…there…”He breaks down into harsh, cracked sobs as he crumples beside her.
He waits by her side, wiping his tears, allowing the silence to stretch, till sleep overcomes her. Then he replaces the old flowers beside her, and takes out the vial from his pocket. He leans over, empties its contents into her slightly agape mouth.
And he realizes that its over. Nobody would ever know.
He steps out into the blinding whiteness again, snowflakes stinging his flesh like knives…..
And it all returns........
His first love. His first marriage. Moving from Kolkata to Landour. Her smiling face that saw him through the hassles of it all.
Then his second love. Not love, obsession, madness. Stronger and fiercer than the first…and then his ultimate choice…
….and all the lies that had followed…
As Divya had said, it was possible to love two people. But only one could you love the most……
Btw, its long n not immersing or anything. Read only if really jobless, like I was when I wrote it :)
The Gift
It had been Christmas Eve when he had seen her for the first time.
And it is once again Christmas Eve in Landour.
Bitter winds, bitter memories of a little town that used to shiver and tremble, sing and dance at these times, assail him. He trudges on, adjusting his cap against a fresh onslaught of the relentless blizzard, drawing his coat about himself as he walks...
"So why are we here?"
Her voice was slightly muffled. She was, after all, female; she obviously wouldn't stop speaking though she was wolfing down her third naan. Her questioning, doe-like eyes scanned his face now, mutely repeating the same thing she had asked him just now. And this was standard fare, very much a part of Ananya as he knew her. Every time they met, he knew she would begin with this one line.
They were seated at the Regency, in Kolkata. The monsoon was a mere week from settling in fully, and the first showers had already come into the city, invigorating the people with fresh hope. This was the time when the fishermen in the villages would bid their wives farewell, as they ventured with their boats into the wide estuaries of the Sunderbans, trying to catch the prize hilsas that swam up the river. This was the time when the stalls at Victoria would do the year’s best business before the Pujas, as couples strolled the Memorial grounds all day and night. And this was the season when children would think of paper boats to float in the city’s drains. Later on, this very rain would be carrying both boat and child away…
But for now, the rains were just beginning. And as the cool, moist wind that heralded this beginning blew over her face, she smiled, closed her eyes, and stretched back to enjoy the breeze. He looked at her for a moment, then answered: ”There’s something I’ve brought for you.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d given things to her. And she knew that. She opened one eye, and gave him a sharp, quizzical look. “What?”, she said.
And then he said to her: “Will you marry me?”
Her fork fell on the plate with a clatter as she saw the ring. Her hands went over her mouth as she gazed, open-eyed, at him.
And in those eyes, all he had seen till then was fun, frolic and carelessness....
...today he thought he saw acceptance glisten for the first time…
The hospital stands in front of him...white, tall, simple and forbidding. From the outside, he can see the orderlies walk hither and thither, nurses carrying trays and clipboards went about, talking in fluent Pahari. He rushes through the glass doors, nearly bumps into a nurse. Instead of apologizing he says to her “My wife is admitted here….I am Mr. Avinash Pant from….”
The nurse’s annoyed look is soon replaced by concern, and she points towards a particular corridor. He thanks her hurriedly and rushes towards it. He runs through the corridor, breathing heavily.
And then he sees her, through the window of Ward 3. Broken, lifeless. But then, she smiles at him. Life, for an instant, flows back into her face. She had recognized him. Amidst all the terrible pain, she would have smiled like that for only one person in the whole world…
Involuntarily, his hand reaches up to brush off snow from the little bouquet of flowers he has brought along…
He lay awake at night, looking out at the twinkling lights of Landour, of his long-lost home…
Why did this place have to be their honeymoon, she had asked him so many times. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He had so many sweet memories of this town. He still remembered the chilly winters, the long treks over lush green hills to reach his secondary school, the humdrum as the lines of prayer flags on the roadsides all flapped as one in the mountain breeze….he had always, deep within, cherished the thought of returning here once. And it had grown, but, thankfully, hadn’t changed one bit…..
He looked at her face as she slept, beside him. What a ride it had been. The proposal. The disagreement of her ‘Born Tough’ father who had hollered at her “Whom do you love, me or him?” and the extremely filmy reply “It is possible to love two people, but only one can you love the most.” He smiled. The settling down in Mumbai. The struggle for a respectable livelihood. Returning in the evenings, expecting a warm dinner, and a warmer smile…
She turned around in bed and blindly felt for him. He laughed out aloud. She slowly opened one eye, and then sat up suddenly at once.
“Kya hua? Its…”She glanced up. ”..two in the night…why aren’t you sleeping?” She looked even more beautiful with her eyebrows arched in a rare expression of concern.
“Just woke up.” ,he lied. “Listen, I’m going for a stroll, ok?”
“But its snowing!”
He planted a quick kiss on her forehead.
“Stay safe. I’ll call you soon.”
And he lit up a cigarette and walked away into the blizzard towards the florist’s.
He stands beside her, watching the near-lifeless eyes slowly rise up to his face. And he knows his tears will not be enough to stop him speaking to her. To communicate, one last time.
He clasps her hand. Peace is slowly creeping into those eyes he knows so well. He knows she’ll be asleep within moments…
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Ananya..” , he says. His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t…ever…there…”He breaks down into harsh, cracked sobs as he crumples beside her.
He waits by her side, wiping his tears, allowing the silence to stretch, till sleep overcomes her. Then he replaces the old flowers beside her, and takes out the vial from his pocket. He leans over, empties its contents into her slightly agape mouth.
And he realizes that its over. Nobody would ever know.
He steps out into the blinding whiteness again, snowflakes stinging his flesh like knives…..
And it all returns........
His first love. His first marriage. Moving from Kolkata to Landour. Her smiling face that saw him through the hassles of it all.
Then his second love. Not love, obsession, madness. Stronger and fiercer than the first…and then his ultimate choice…
….and all the lies that had followed…
As Divya had said, it was possible to love two people. But only one could you love the most……
