Memories (Purely fictional!)

tig

|| He had always been one of those. You know the-unromantic-silent-brooding-Mr.Darcyish-angry-young-man variety, who you hate at first and then fall hard in love with later. The one who doesn’t believe in romantic gifts, sweet nothings, goodnight kisses. Get the picture? Yes, that’s the one.

So, basically that means no birthday gifts, no valentine’s day gifts, no anniversary gifts, and no surprise gifts (of course). Though that made him utterly cute and adorable somehow, this time she decided she wouldn’t have anything of that sway her off her feet. She wanted her gift this time.

“You never give me anything!”

“What else do you want? We spent such splendid times in these three days. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“You are just so lame. So unromantic. Sometimes I wonder how you even fell in love with me!”

“Who said I did?”
“Hmph…”

“Acha sorry baba! Now smile, I have to catch the train. You take care okay.”

And before she could hug him one last time, he left.

Next morning, she woke up with red swollen eyes and a wet pillow. Damn! These long distance relationships. Damn! And as she carelessly ran her hands over the wardrobe to look for her lenses, she found something clumsily wrapped in a newspaper. His old blue T-shirt. With a note that said – “Obviously I am poor. Hope this second hand thing helps.” So typical of him. She smiled. He always knew how to make her smile.

A year later they broke up. Little did she know, that T-shirt would be the only remnant of him with her. The T-shirt that has now turned grey. Pale. Crimpled. Like the T-shirt, the memories have faded too. Bit by bit. Layer by layer. Colour by colour.

The funny thing about memories is that when you look back at them, they are so alive. Vivid and colourful. Ever-lasting. And ever-revealing. ||

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That smile!

rekha didi

|| I am not going to tell you her story. She and I have a deal. Whatever happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen.

But her story is the many stories I have known, heard and seen. That have helped me to dare take a step forward after being pulled back thousand steps behind, to build my castle each time the waves wash it away, to sit on cloud 9 everyday, to see the silver lining in every cloud, to wake up every morning with the same gusto after a hundred “ give ups” on my routine, to dream, to fight, to dream again and mostly to be happy. They taught me to find happiness where it belonged: my heart.

Because that smile you see in the picture is despite a hundred dreams shattered and the beginning of twenty others. I am lucky to see that smile every single day in my life but if you look around, they are everywhere. Maybe there, under that bridge that you just crossed. ||

Published in The Instagram Generation (Facebook) on the theme Dedication

Ma!

 

mom

|| When you are done giving her life

When you are done capturing every single moment of her childhood on a camera

When you are done buying candies and silly frocks for her

When you are done crying for every bruise or mosquito bite on her skin

When you are done clapping the loudest for her on stage

When you are done dolling her up

When you done teaching her to eat her greens

When you are done planning her first ever vacation in Manali

When you are done drilling values and discipline

When you are done teaching her the jobs of the head and the heart

When you are done making her a happy human-being

She wants you to go out there and gift yourself a smile

For making her, her

And just for being you. ||