Skip to main content

Do you need a reason to love??



I boarded the bus, put my bag on the nearby seat & turned my back to watch her leave. The feeling to see her, first slip from my arms & then from my eyes was detrimental. That was, may be, the first time when my mind in support of my heart,  told me to get down the bus, take a rigorous run and being oblivious of the hypocrites around…just hug….in the mild, angelic drizzling….
I was cursing each second that passed, each distance that made me feel she was far. It’s savage, I yelled to myself. I hated everything that was been offered to me….
My eyes were desperate to have a glimpse of that loving, cherishing, benign face….just to make sure that she was weeping, both inside & outside. But she didn’t turn back…it pierced my heart…my eyes were behaving like a child, being left alone in a boarding school by the most loved person in his life…
I wanted to reprimand…don’t know to whom…because in addition to every little thing was hurting, the drizzle became grave & it began to rain heavily….the white clouds were begetting to dark ones. These dark clouds poured tears on the ground, as if it read our hearts, as if it was teasing me on our incapability to weep in front of each other, as if it coaxed me to go and pull her with force of love towards me….
She was completely off the scene in a jiffy…yes…in a jiffy, I was taken aback to witness this... from past seven days I spend the best time of my life with her and now how the hell she can vanish within a wink!!!
The bus moved, I didn’t want to unless I could stop questioning myself why did she disappear in the empty crowd, far from me…
The bus got on the road, I looked outside the window and there was this glorious, exquisite, exhilarating beauty of the green plants, trees lying all over the image formed in your eye...I, from my childhood loved this greenery to fullest….it always made me happy and juvenile. This time, it was different, it stunned me by making me upset….the cell phone rang, and I received without bothering who called. It was she
“Did the bus leave? “
“Yes”
“Its raining heavily and I am completely wet”
“doo doo not get wet….just grab an auto”
“nope…I want to feel the pain that you have left
If I go by auto, I will reach home early and get distracted from the feeling early …”
With a lump in my throat,”I will call you later”..the line went dead.. I sneaked out of the window and within fraction of seconds….i could feel the warmth generated in my eyes, while rest of my body was bitten by cold weather…the warmth made my eyes moist….
I closed my eye, wishing the tears could roll down my cheek, but they were obstinate enough to stick to my eyes and not fall….
This was so hard because we never knew when we could meet next time, with this meet being our first… we met on facebook three months back…without even knowing about me, she said she loved me!! I was way skeptical until I met her, touched her to heave a sigh of relief that she’s for real. The love she had for me was audaciously screaming at me through the touch of her hands, through her alluring eyes, through the passion hidden in the hug, it didn’t do any acrobatic, fanatic stuff to make me feel that… the love was naïve and i couldn’t stop falling in love with her…..for the first time ever in my life, I felt unconditional love….that was truly touching...
And then against all odds stacked , we met,spent time. We had the best time of our lives but every best thing and not good thing is short lived. If one fine morning I want to talk to her by holding her hands, I have to take a stride of 800kms. She showed me a very true yet miraculously disguised thing and that is,
‘You love someone just because you have spent a lot of time; well that’s a reason
You love someone just because you didn’t feel THE THING for anyone else; well that’s also a reason
If you love truly someone…….well you need to find a reason because it’s only then you will realize you don’t have any”’

Comments

  1. well done andya
    simply love the way u write
    the way u express
    fantastic
    keep going.>>>>>>>>>>

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Two Minutes

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 29 ; the 29th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . The topic for this month is 'TWO MINUTES'. 1935: “Radha, where are you? Come soon. Get me my pagadi “shouted Ramrao. Radha came running inside the room. Managing the nauwari sari was still a difficult job for her. She was wearing it since 8 years as it was the traditional Brahmin apparel for women in those days. She went to the wooden cupboard beside the bed and took out the white pagadi and gave it Ramrao. Ramrao took it with a smile on his face and looking into her eyes he said,” Thank you my dear wife” for which she smiled him back and put her head down evincing her shyness. Having said that he left for work. Radha was 18 years old and Ramrao, who was 35, then, was her husband. In those days girls were married at the age of 8 or...

THAT LAST NIGHT

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 26 ; the 26th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . The topic for this month is 'That Last Night'. A small crowd of reporters was waiting anxiously for the WRITER to arrive, and back of my mind I was very much excited to keep them waiting. I was accompanied by my agent and we walked inside the conference hall and the sound of warm applause relieved me; though, it didn’t satisfy me. We sat on the chair, which was a de facto way to start the so called interview. “Good evening to all my friends. I am now fixed to chair and you can start the interview. I know many of you have myriad questions running in your minds and soon they are going to be blasted on me. So let the 1 st question of the evening come in” (A lady of a leading newspaper gets up as soon as if she was waiting to pounce the piec...

Story of an Untold Story

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following  Blog-a-Ton . The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story' "You miss her ??" asked the son to his father who was on the verge of entering into senility. “I have never. Nor do I intend to.” was the sturdy reply. Son sensed the succinct rudeness in his father’s reply. Trying to be indifferent he proceeded further. “Well… true. You only miss someone when that someone is absent; mother is present in your heart and you can’t deny it.” “See, you got me” said his father with a smile on his wrinkled face. “Dad, I wish she was with us today. I could have seen tears in her eyes when I was about to go abroad for my job. I could have asked her to prepare all delicious desi dishes to eat.” There were tears in his eyes while saying this...