The coffee went cold, as she greedily absorbed his words,his actions,his confusions and the shyness. All this and more of him,she kept filing in her head. The names being called out at the starbucks counter,the conversations on next table,the phone ringing,the constant message beeps;nothing disturbed her today. She was meeting him after an year and even when things had gone silent in head,the stories kept spilling out of her. The moment smelled of black coffee and the color grey.He always managed to make her feel like a child again – trying to impress,narrating the stupidest things,watching him give her all the time and attention he had. She wanted time to know how much she valued his share of stories. Perhaps then she will be able to appear in some of his memories. She smiled, sighed and walked away with mixed emotions.
This was all she could claim of him – the words , the feeling and the inspiration. No picture could evoke the same again.
One thing leads to another , they say. And that’s how most tales begin or end in real life too.
I met Yogesh after I moved to Delhi and one of the major reason was that I had started to depend on him for any information or help I needed regarding places and transport in Delhi. But the reason and circumstances that led me to delhi were nothing I had imagined.
It was Dec 2010 , I was working in Bangalore when my parents had asked me to come home urgently. Little did I know I was supposed to meet a guy , the prospective groom that my dad’s best friend had suggested. I was recovering from a break up and was not really ready for such a step but I still went ahead with the plans. The guy was nice to talk to and within half hour we were chatting quite freely. This was good enough for both the sides and within an hour , I was formally engaged to the guy.
To say that I was shocked is an understatement. I could not believe what had happened and for a whole week after returning to Bangalore , I did no tell even my best friend about it. I had met the guy just one more time before leaving Delhi and that was on my insistence ’cause I wanted to be sure about the whole scene and perhaps about the guy too.
Life soon became a series of calls and emails between us but there was no warmth and feeling of being treated special for me. I wanted a lot more and somehow was not convinced at all that the guy liked me. I had already resigned from my current job without even having another job in hand ’cause my parents wanted me to concentrate on wedding for few months and find a new job once I returned from Bangalore. One disappointment led to another and things kept getting worse between us. No amount of talks and suggestions improved his attention towards me and one day I called the wedding off. I had to convince my parents ( threaten actually) and turn a deaf and blind attitude towards all the over concerned relatives but I knew I had to do this for myself. I thought of staying back in Bangalore for a few more months but I knew I had better return to Delhi and face whatever was in store for me.
3 months at home without a job and constant reminders of a failed engagement later I got a job in Delhi and in August 2010 i settled in this city. Finding a PG was a hassle as back then , we did not have services like https://housing.com/in but as was in luck , I found a very caring set of people and later best friend too.
I found a caring and loyal friend in Yogesh when we first met in September 2010. Inspite of all hurdles and differences, 3 years later, we married each other.
My move to Delhi was not a happy phase but who knew it was the very thing that would give me happiness for a life time. All we need is now a home to call our own where we can build our own heaven. And I know just where to start searching when time comes !
I have been wondering what to write for Yogesh from last 3 days. Before wedding, i have written so much poetry about him, us , love and post wedding the feelings have just been exceptionally overwhelming.
What do I not thank you for dear husband ?? I remember starting a happiness jar and the first note was for the wonderful family I have got through you. Never have I felt I am the outsider in your world or theirs.
I took the 100 happy days challenge and one third posts were for you ( actually it was for the late night chai you make for me When I am lazy )
I started the reading meets and you made such lovely posters for the invites , you bear my dilemma for venues, accompany me on each meet and even pretend to read at times.
you download the songs I like some times so I have something to hear when we go for a drive.
You smile at all my silly ideas and never even dissuade me , even when you have your doubts !
These are the few things that seem small but make the most difference to me. I am thankful that you accept me as I am and even if you keep poking me to be better or different, its never out of my zone.
I am happy for the love and cares as much as the arguments we have because that show that we know not just to please but to have differences and resolve them too.
Thank you everything and every moment you have spent with me before wedding for that made me fall in love with you. Thank you more for keeping that love in such high esteem every passing day.
If there is what I have learned from 2014 , it is to always be thankful for your life – both the good and not so good of it ( It can always be worse and you can make it so better ) So , this challenge is going to make me express the same feeling here on my blog. Other reasons can be :
1. I want to blog more
2. It helps me if I have a topic to write on
3. The thank you posts will be duly shared with the person ( if applicable ) as a handwritten note of my heartfelt gratitude.
4. I wish more people be inspired to be thankful for their blessings and crib a little less.
5. I want myself to NOT FORGET being happy and thankful each passing day.
Ok , that will do I suppose. Also ,I hear the microwave calling me. Something healthy is cooking 😉
So this is how it is,
to feel forgotten,
to exist not in reality
but just random pics.
trying to define yourself
and failing at “human”
coz you are not being
the way you wish to be.
others see you
through you, you feel
judge you for expressing
your simple needs.
Four years in a city
and you still are a stranger,
out of your silent alienation.
one anchor you got
to not let you drift apart,
to keep you rooted to self
and gaurd your careless heart.
hold on to yourself
and believe you still are special
for everyone has a battle to fight
you be the hero of your part.
I was there,
that dark harrowing place
of self doubt and neglect
of negativity and hurt
of being stubborn beyond reason
of acting beyond comprehension;
I was there,
feeling trapped and alone
from bars of my own creation
from feelings that defied traditions
from ideas devoid of action
from words that shamed all reactions.
I was there
supposedly for a long time
ignoring of my lover’s songs
ignoring the best friend’s hopes
ignoring the stranger’s smiles
ignoring my own heart’s cries.
I was there.
no more, not again
that is not a promise I can make
that is not the road I always take
that is a battle I fight each day
that is a war I will win one day.