Sunday, March 3

I wondered why I loved her so much and not just liked her!


I looked at the phone which was vibrating endlessly, the screen said her name. Why was she calling? We just had a talk in the class. Was she in trouble? She wouldn’t call me otherwise. I picked up the call as fast as it was humanely possible and uttered a ‘hello, what happened? All okay?’ ‘Dudeee, where are you?’ Why was she asking me all this?  Should I use the elevator? She was in class I knew, fourth floor. She had stayed for a friend. Elevator or stairs- tell me my brain, which way could I reach her faster? ‘Jayesh, you there?’ the voice brought me back. She was in trouble, I was sure. Her voice was low and different, almost as if she was hiding the call from someone. There was something wrong with everything. I had to rush. I looked at the massive pool of people waiting for the elevator, that’d at least take few minutes; I had to use the stairs. I ran for them. ‘I’m just coming, what’s up?’ I had already reached the second floor when she spoke again slowly but magically, ‘Nothing, I need a coffee, could you get it on your way up, please?’ A coffee? I could get her the whole world if it was up to me. I ran down to the canteen and asked for a coffee. ‘Bhaiya, one coffee, garam dena ekdum!’ I rushed to collect the cup which was filled till the brim, ‘have your garma-garam coffee, hold it properly, you might burn your hand.’ I turned around with the cup carefully shielded with my arms. The warning bell rang. In the rush to get to classes, a fat lady unintentionally pushed me, and the whole cup spilled over my shirt. When the liquid made contact with my skin, I must tell you it was the worst pain ever and I had tears in my eyes immediately. The lady could only utter, ‘I am so sorry, I didn’t see the coffee, I am so sorry!’ How would she, I had the coffee well shielded. I told her its okay when she smiled at me apologetically and left. After cleaning myself, I ordered another coffee. The crowd had dispersed in two minutes. I held the fresh coffee in my hand and started climbing the stairs. I was already late; she was waiting for me probably with a headache or something worse.

If one loves someone, they should at least care about them. Was my love even true? Why didn’t I know she had a headache? Why didn’t I ask her, like every day, whether she was all right? Why was I such a lousy person? This is why she wouldn’t go out with me. I had to make myself a better person-more responsible, more caring, less annoying- only then I’d tell her how much I love her. She deserves the best.


I reached the fourth floor and found her standing in the corridor with another guy who was constantly holding her hands, pinching her in the stomach softly, talking and making her laugh. I assumed she was uncomfortable; no one would like random boys touching them inappropriately. His tight fitting clothes with good looks and polished English were sure an advantage, but apart from that I didn’t see anything special, anything threatening.
I walked towards them, and waved a customary ‘hi’. I was surprisingly greeted with ‘Jayesh, how much time do you need to get one coffee? I have been waiting for twenty minutes. If you didn’t want to get one, you could have just told me so!’, saying this she took the glass from my hand.

Maybe she didn’t notice the splatter of coffee all over my shirt. I wouldn’t blame her; my love was no Sherlock Holmes, otherwise she would know how much I loved her. She was not good with observational skills, a weakness I was willing to accept once she was mine. I was hers I knew.


The coffee glass was passed back to me, ‘when did you get this coffee? I told you I didn’t wanted it, I had food when I came to college, and you’re unnecessarily taking troubles’ she said in a very weird manly voice. It took my brain a little time to process. The guy had said it, he had refused the coffee. Wait, the coffee was for the guy? Because she thought he hadn’t eaten? And what was he saying, you’re unnecessarily taking troubles, what troubles did she take? Used the guy who loves her unconditionally to get a coffee, surely, sounds like a lot of trouble and manipulation.

My heart’s hatred for my brain for thinking this was unfathomable. I regretted being myself for those few seconds. How could I say that? 

Anyway, the coffee was refused by the hero of the story. They resumed their muted conversation and he started touching her again. She didn’t look as uncomfortable as I had initially assumed. She was even responding positively, pinching on his hand, smiling beautifully. How beautiful she is!  I stood there. Had my prayers finally been answered? Was I invisible? I looked around to see if I really was. They were not noticing me. I was surely invisible. I started making obscene ‘fuck you’ gestures towards the guy when she spoke clearly irritated, ‘Jayesh, this is Rohan, he’s in my Law tuition. Rohan, this is Jayesh, a friend.’ She said a friend, I heard a failure. Did she consider me a failure? Was I that bad?

If she thought so, probably I was.  

I kept standing there for ten minutes or twenty pretending to have some business on my phone intently trying to listen to what they were chattering about. She was laughing unnecessarily. Anyone could say it was excessive to the point where it became clear she liked the guy, and it only made him more confident. He continued the touching and pinching. They had moved to the benches and after talking some more, while I kept standing like unwanted debris, the guy finally bade good bye. My head felt at peace when he was out of sight; now I’d bitch about this guy, no holds barred and make her laugh. She enquired, ‘how did you like him?’ ‘Well, for starters, I think his grammar is weak. He didn’t wanted coffee. haha’ I laughed, proud of my observation skills. ‘Dude, even you’re no Shakespeare, don’t be so rude.’

Wait, what? I was not dumb. I could very well observe where this was going.

I mustered up every ounce of courage I had in my body and hoping against hope, I asked ‘so, you like the guy?’ ‘Yes, I think he’s nice, he’s educated and well mannered, he’s even got a modeling contract, can you believe that! And the most important thing is he likes me!’ I could only say, ‘amazing man! I am so happy for you!’

I wondered why I loved her so much and not just liked her.

As I moved a bit uncomfortably, my shirt touched my skin; I realized the pain on the chest wasn’t the worst in the world, the pain inside it was. How funny, the hot burning sensation on my chest hadn’t yet diluted properly when this new one started. At least, I didn’t have tears this time.

We started walking to the exit. I tried my best to get her attention, I tried talking about college, future, parents, friends but her eyes were glued to her phone’s screen providing me with real time updates, ‘he said, your friend is weird! haha’, ‘he said he’s free tomorrow. I am so excited’, and ‘J, you were saying something?!’ to which I could only smile and say ‘no, nothing.’

Was she in love with him or it was just an infatuation? Does that ever matter? She will not go out with me. Should I at least give this a try? I couldn’t think anymore, I didn’t want to be the victim, like the previous occasions. I had to tell her how I felt. I finally spoke, ‘I think I like the guy, seems like a sweet kid, and it’s a bonus he likes you as well, you don’t find sincere loving boys in this age, I think you should give him a try. What’s the worst that can happen?!’ I chickened out, like all the previous occasions.

Before she could say anything, I faked a call and told her ‘I have to leave, my car has come.’ I hated lying to her. I wanted to stay with her for whatever time she allowed me, but my eyes could only hold the stuff for so long. I left. Only writing could bring me back. I reached home, sat on my chair and typed,We are the ones who talk to you all night when you’re down…

The next day when I met them, they were more expressive; he held her hands tightly and kept kissing on them whenever I spoke, breaking my whole rhythm. Was he the devil-servant sent to crush me to death? We went on for a roadside Chai; while she was pouring it in his cup, a little got spilled over his hand. The hero started whimpering like a C-Grade Bollywood hero. Why couldn’t she see what a Dodo this guy was? She held his thumb in her hands and kissed on it, ‘is it okay now, love, or do you want some more?’ My eyes were shut for tears would escape otherwise. With every word they spoke and every kiss they shared thereafter, I felt as if my life was getting over and my heart was getting stampeded step by step carefully so that none of it was left in the process, so that all it had ever felt was crushed till it vanished into thin air of nothingness. I tried hating her to lessen the pain; I tried counting all the negatives in her, she had none. Plan royally failed. Something tickled her, he had cracked a joke perhaps and she laughed; she looked so serene, so beautiful and I was sure I was in LOVE-unadulterated, selfless and incorrigible-love. I could not just hate her. I was willing to endure all the heartaches in the world till always and forever, for that one silly laugh.

|| THE END ||

  
[Work of pure fiction. Picture by- Zeeshan Solaiman 
This is what J wrote when he sat on his chair- An ode to the nice boys around YOU!

If there’s anyone out there, who can relate to it, then I wholeheartedly salute for the love you have for them, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re coward. Please, please get drunk and tell her you love her. You’ll do everyone a great favor. She deserves the love, she deserves you! You’re no less than anyone. The only thing that matters is LOVE. SHOW IT. Wondering if I will do the same? Nope, I’ll just chicken out like always! What would happen if I tell her how I feel about her? Maybe we’d all know someday…]


19 comments :

  1. Well, Thats was an interesting and nice work of fiction.

    Is this really fiction? I could see the animated characters just before my eyes, to the last detail ans felt as if you were really that guy. Or else you are just an awesome writer.

    And thanks for the advice. But I'll chicken out too. .

    Take Care and Keep Writing. :)

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    Replies
    1. haha thank you so much man, means a lot!

      i did chicken out... wait its fiction, its fiction, i swear! :D

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    2. Hmm,
      So, Its Fiction.
      Agreed. *Sarcastic Face* :P

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  2. gadha sala jayesh :P :D ,,,,,thoughh must admit a gud wrk of fiction u can b d nxt CB :D

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    Replies
    1. haha kya bol sakte hai bechare ko!
      thank you. that's a compliment right? :D

      Delete
  3. is somethng related to u in this topic...:P

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  4. I can relate to it....It doesn't seem like fiction at all....Just gr8...I could feel the anguish...It was as if you were the main character!

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    Replies
    1. thank you so much man! gladly, i am not the main character! :D

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  5. touched some nerves :P
    Good work.

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  6. Keep writing bro...........
    Take care....... It was really good

    ReplyDelete