Plot Twists

It was his birthday eve.

“Happy almost 30th birthday, Vikram! May you stay happy always. To plot twists. To you. Have a wonderful one.”- she’d texted.

“Plot twists?” he’d asked her.

“I’ll tell you, at 11:59 pm tonight. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. Till then, enjoy your birthday eve!”

He mulled over this for a while, but thought no more of it. His closest friends flew in to surprise him. They had made plans –and it wasn’t until they were all sitting on his roof at 10 p.m. with their drinks, did her name even come up.

“Did she wish you?” they asked.

“Yes, but it was very cryptic. I wonder what she means”, he said- showing them the text.

“This does seem cryptic. But hey, it’s going to be 11:59 in a couple of hours. We’ll all stay for this”, they all decided.

So, they waited, talking about life, careers, regaling each other with their childhood stories and adult mishaps.

At 11:59, his phone vibrated.

A hushed silence fell, as all of them wondered what exactly this was about.

“Dare I open this text?” he asked, gazing around the widened eyes of his friends.

He opened.

She had written-

“Of all the plot twists in my life, you were by far the most unexpected.

I don’t know if I mean that in a good way or a bad way.
When you were with me, I felt a strange peace. Until, I didn’t.

When we stopped being a “We”. I wish you didn’t run.

But well, here we are- on our different paths and while it seems to me to be a damn shame, I realise this might just be a part of fate’s games.

Because, in your absence also, there is a strange peace.

That last fight - it took a lot from me.
Maybe I did grow tired of fighting for us, when you couldn’t.
My mind remembers the words you said, and it refuses to believe you could be so cruel.

Maybe it believes in your potential, maybe it’s blind to your reality.
Even as I say this, it feels like a reproach.
I wonder when will I give permission to myself to reproach you.
This silence- it eggs me on, to imagine scenarios that never existed, to imagine words that were never spoken and worlds that could have been.
I wonder, till when do I have to keep fighting against the two lawyers in me- one fighting for you and one fighting against you.
It’s a losing battle - because both of them will hurt me equally.
They tell me things I refuse to allow myself to think.

And yet, grief does not come.

Which makes me wonder, am I grieving for us or am I actually happier with who I’ve become in order to get over you?

You used to say things about our timing, that it wasn’t right.

I wonder if that’s true though.

You came into my life when I was at my lowest, and helped me see myself in a better light.

When you left, that stayed with me.

I built myself back up again, and made a lot of radical changes in my life- just to hold on to the person I wanted to be.

Maybe you came into my life to help me, be me.

Maybe we will meet again, maybe we won’t.

But I think I’m finally at peace, even if I’m not over you.

My dear friend helped me see all this. It’s his birthday, and so I’m doing this today.”

He was barely done reading that, when another text came:

“Dear Vikram,

Thank you for that talk. You helped me rationalize all of my thoughts and I finally sent him this.

I feel so much better and it’s all because of you.

You will always be my strength.

Thank you, for everything.

I did you a disservice when I tried to be more than a friend, when I wasn’t fully over the ex.

I never want you to feel like you were the rebound. I guess I was vulnerable.

Thank you for pushing me away that time. It might have been the smartest thing you ever did.

So, for your birthday, I decided to take your advice.

I had been working on this for a while.

Filmy, that I am, I did this on your birthday.

One last thing, V. 

Don’t think that this is your birthday gift! It’s on its way- Amazon should be at your doorstep tomorrow morning.

Thank you for being the sane one.”

Amongst cries of “You pushed her away?”/“What even?”/  “Phew!”/ “Yeahhhhh…I’m glad I’m not sober for this.”,Vikram just smiled. It was the smile of a man who was truly at peace with the world.

The Bright Side

(Note: Reposting this story from 2017, due to some issues with the blog.)

“Do you believe in destiny”, he asked.

“ I believe we are the masters of our life. I believe that destiny is just an excuse for people to not move their asses and take life into control”, she said.

“But do you believe that two people who are meant to be will find their way to each other?” he asked, hoping she gets it.

She decided to tell him. It was time.

“I used to. I met someone who made me believe. And then, it ended. Weirdly, that’s when I believed even more. I believed that he had come into my life to teach me something- to not change myself to be someone’s girlfriend.

I got over it. It took a while, but I did. But then, I noticed a fairly disturbing trait in myself. It pains me to admit it, but he started affecting who I would get attracted to. Someone who reminded me too much of him, I would steer clear of- because I don’t believe in repeating mistakes. I would usually only ever date people who were polar opposites of him.

And that has made all the difference. I realized that I could never have a relationship if I made my dating choices based on the one I thought I was destined for. So, I decided to let go. My ideas about destiny and well, him. It’s not that we weren’t meant to be. I don’t want to give a relationship some sort of cosmic status. I think we were just two people who couldn’t meet halfway. If you try hard enough, you can control a lot of things in your life. I don’t think I am capable of going with the flow.”

He said:

“You said you let him go. Now, for both of our sakes, let go of that psychobabble in your head. You’ve always been like this, I should know. You think there’s a rational explanation for all your reactions. You forget that sometimes, that’s all they are-reactions to actions.

You don’t understand that not everything in this world can be controlled. Your life, is not just your own. Yes, you can control your reactions, most of the time. But you can’t control others – and their actions/reactions will affect your life in ways you cannot fathom. The more you try to control every moment, the more pressure you’re putting on this tiny brain of yours.

And, what you think I don’t know about this boy? Your mother told me the same day that you told her.”

She gasped, “ She told you. MOMMMMMM!”

He said, “Baccha, you know your mother and I don’t have any secrets when it comes to you. If it helps, she tried very hard!”

She said, “ Well. Thanks for adding to the impossible ideals of relationships. What is this, yaar! Pops, I’m going now. “

Kavita entered just then, spectacles on her head as usual and the usual three bags- one lunch, one handbag, one laptop bag.

Prateek rushed to help her. As he grabbed her laptop bag, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, he said “ Daughter. Upset. Room.”

Kavita glared at him, “ Couldn’t keep it to yourself, na!”

Prateek said, “It’s an old relationship. She’s over it. She told me herself, but then found out. I’m glad she told me herself, though. We raised a good kid. She, like you and I, can’t keep secrets. Not so good in the real world, though. People will take advantage of my poor child.”

In her room, Prerna is wondering what to do with the barrage of emotions inside her. Ever since that talk with her father, she cannot help but go to all his social media profiles.  But strangely, she feels empty. Nothing comes up. She can’t describe this emptiness. It’s not the familiar relief she had when realized she was over him, or the grief when she used to miss him.

This is weird.

Kavita walks in, two mugs of green tea in her hand “ I know what you’re about to do. Don’t text that boy, child.”

“I wasn’t mom. Just weird emptiness situation here.” Prerna says.

“Oh, that’s normal. It’ll pass. Sorry, you know….”

“That Dad and you don’t have secrets. Yeah. It’s fine.”

Prateek walks in, two glasses in hand.

“What’s this. I got your favorite gin and tonic, bacha. What is this green tea nonsense, Kavu! Chal mere sher puttar, let’s have some gin. Chodo yeh green tea!”

As she saw her parents bicker over green tea and gin and tonic, she realized, no matter what, she would be okay.

Incomplete

Strange are the ways of the world.

Woody Allen once said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans”.

The day he met her, he knew. His sister told him that this kind of certainty is rather unnerving.

Yet, he paid no heed. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he pursued her.

He wrote poetry about her. So consumed he was by her, that he forgot everything else.

He never could gather up the courage to tell her how he felt. But the words, they were his high. Unrequited love, no. Unless she knew, he figured, it could never be unrequited. It was just incomplete.

He liked the idea of an incomplete love story. He liked the idea of his secret love for her. It was exciting, similar to forbidden love, and yet, more exciting because it was his secret. Nobody was in on it.

But, sometimes, life isn’t simple. Mostly, it’s not. 

Somehow, she found out. He never knew how.

But she knew. She asked him out, said she’d always liked him.

He didn’t know what to feel. If this was someone else..

But she had become his obsession, and he couldn’t let it be that simple. He had a whole “filmi sequence” planned out in his mind.

This wasn’t his “riding off into the sunset together” moment. This, he knew, wouldn’t last.

The idea of her was so much more powerful than a relationship with her. His muse, he reasoned, could never be his girlfriend.

Influenced that he was by these grand ideas of love, loss, pain and poetry- that he could not let go.

She moved on, and he continued to write. He poured out his deepest desires, his innermost thoughts and his inner turmoil flowed onto the pages unhindered by anything.

Soon, he achieved fame. Too many broken hearts, they could all relate. He started trending on social media. His first collection of poems sold out within days.

The critics were generous with their praise, and the fans were overcome by adulation.

Book signings, contracts, meetings with publishers and agents. One could say, his ideas weren’t wrong. His muse got him the success.

He got tired of that- became a recluse and the years went by, as if in a hazy dream.

She flitted in and out of his dreams. He usually went to bed seeing her pictures on Instagram, and woke up to notifications of her activity on Facebook.

He used to be a bright, funny and cheerful kid. One look at him, and you could never have imagined him capable of – well, this.

It’s hard to imagine a life devoted to the memory of another. And yet, that is what he did.

Beautiful, funny Kiara.

College reunion happened. He went, if for nothing else but to catch a glimpse of her.

And there she was. Smiling at him from across the room.

He went up to her, gave her a peck on the cheek and only asked her what had been plaguing him since then.

“How did you know?”

She smiled, and said “Intuition.”, and went away.

On his way out, he handed her a slip of paper.

On it were these words:

“Lamhe guzar gaye, ek haseen khwaab dekhte dekhte.

Tum who haseen khwaab the, ho aur shayad zindagi bhar rahoge.

Shayad yahi humaari saza thi, ki uss din na tum ruke aur na hum rok paaye.

In faasolo main ek sachai hai, in kagazon pe likhi jo tanhai hai.

Ab yaha se kahan jaaye hum, soch kar bhi dar lagta hai.

Tumhe joh dekh liya, toh ek alag zindagi ka khwaab dekhta hoon.

Iss zindagi se koi shikayat hai to sirf ek, ki tum aaye toh kyun na reh sake.

Iska pata hume bhi tha, zikr shayad tumse bhi kiya tha.

Zindagi guzar gayi, ab shayad umeed ne bhi saath chod diya hai

Ek galat kadam ne shayad zindagi ka ruk badal diya.”

There it was, an incomplete love story.

………………….....................................................................................................................

I will leave you here, dear reader. I could make up a thousand different scenarios. I could give you a happy ending, I could give you a sad ending. But, I think I will leave you with this thought:

In every story, we are trying to find something. Whatever ending we choose, reflects our yearning for something bigger than ourselves. It reflects a part of you. I choose to leave you with this. Do with it what you will.