We left us thus..,

I once wrote a letter. It was my wild endeavor to hold my right; my degradation, my pride, my happiness, and my anguish. I wrote about when I felt, what I felt and fairly how I felt. I wrote that after an unfortunate day when I got to know, what there was to know. It was not meant to be a full stop, we were not history, not yet, but in a twisted way it was a mixture of both and more, as the premature abortion of a certain affection was mutually acquiesced. Where do I go from a dead end, alone? Only logical to retrace the steps to a point, where there was relief to the suffocation, where there was enough strength to pick up and plough through, or so, one might say. Can I ever reach that cross roads, with all heart, mind and soul? I had an inch of doubt. What was making it so tough to let-go of the phantom was beyond my comprehension. That was until yesterday. Now, today, I know what to do. The driver for change in attitude is either I subconsciously, know the cause, or simply I don’t care anymore. I decide to sever some of the ties that entwine me to that particular past. I now dare to bare a tiny piece of my soul to others. A rash act of inviting strangers into the ambit, only one had tread. This is purely in the light of the search for that final, absolute closure; to lose the ghost of the past, in an attempt to win it back, morphed into a more pleasing confidant. Here, my ghost, I’m ready to break the promise and go against all your prior confrontations. But you be comforted, knowing that I’m in a better place now. Reliving those ethereal memories one more time, and then I will be done. What a consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon! How all my brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection! Yet in what darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle fought! I could not answer the ceaseless inward question--why I thus suffered; now at the distance of--I will not say how many years, I see it clearly. Something profound stops me from my next words. One of these days, I will not stop at this juncture. My pledge to you will not hold me down and I will let the world know what transpired in that letter. Well, perhaps, tomorrow.

(Italicized from Wuthering Heights)

In the background: Tune

Diversity in unity

(W is just getting back from work)
H: Hey, how was your day? What took you so long?
W: Day was okay. How was yours? Looks like you came home early
H: How did you know?
W: (looking around at the slightly messy room)
H: (seeing her look around) Well, yeah. (Smiles and hands over coffee)
(Later, at the dinner table)
W: How do you manage to make such mess in this short time?
H: What mess? You mean this (waving around the room)? This is not messy. It is okay!
W: (murmurs)No, its not!
H: Hmm?
W: Why don’t you keep the things back from where you took them?
H: I don’t know! I don’t need to, for I can perfectly find my things from wherever I put them (Gives her a mocking look).
W: (stares) No, its not how it is supposed to be. That attitude makes you more slovenly.
H: Pst! It’s perfectly alright. This ‘supposed to’ thing is all made up by us, rather you. We can bend that around, whenever we want.
W: That’s not the only thing.
H: (Walking with the dishes to the kitchen)What?
W: (Cleaning up)We are so different in many aspects. Don’t you see?
H: Yeah. That’s cause we are two different individuals...
W: ... who are together. Okay, let me ask you this, how far do you plan the future.
H: To ask, ‘What’s for lunch tomorrow?’ I don’t plan as far as ‘Which college would our kids go to’
W: Not only that, but we are fundamentally different. While I prefer being a home pigeon you roam around like a wild bird.
H: (walking back to the living room) Hahaha. This is fun. I got one. You relax with your music and books while I unwind with sports.
W: (following him into the room, with a little sad look) I have expressed so many time that to me words and expression matters, while you argue ‘it’s the thought that counts’. Difference!
H: (hooking up the laptop) So? Even in this discussion, see, you are getting emotional while I try to ‘bend and survive’
W: (bit confused)Well, yeah I seem to be resisting.
H: Hmm hmm! (Settles on the couch and starts playing some archived match)
W: What do you conclude?
H: (distracted) ... hmm ... that we are rooted together, branching differently?
W: I would say, we are exclusive in all our interests.
H: (without looking up)You could say that.
W: That doesn’t bother you, the way it bothers me? Well, I think you don’t care enough to feel this way.
H: (mutes match, looks up to see she is upset) Come here. Come here!
W: Hmph!
H: Lookey here, now, if I act, react in the same way as you do, who will be there to console you? (little seriously)If you too are like me, who will be there to pull me back when I go overboard with some of my choices?
W: Hmm!
H: These slight differences are those that make our lives easier. They give us enough spaces to grow... new choices to indulge in. These variations are what attract us toward each other.
W: Hmm! Blah... blah... blah (evidently satisfied)
H: (winking) Else, who will love u the way I do…for all your eccentricities
W: Overkill! (hugging)
H: (smiling) Okay... go... its time for your CSI.
W: (teasingly) Why, your match resumes after break?
H: Yea... that too!
W: HMPRHHH (walks away smiling)

In the background: Tune

Always together, forever apart

She was standing there, as if frozen, looking at the entrance, in the hope, that her continued staring would make him come back, bring him back. It was mid-afternoon, long time after the flight carrying him had departed. Yet, she stood there transfixed, focusing on a spot on the ground, where hours before, perhaps weeks and years before, he had been, before leaving from her life forever. That flight was transporting someone, whom she never would see again and the one whom she wished to see every minute of her living time, or the very least, see him in life and soul, just one more time. Just once! It did not matter, anyway, as they had, in their relationship, have gone beyond the point of no return, a day before his departure. She hated him for that; for leaving her stranded; for abandoning her. It was beyond her comprehension, the reason for his abrupt leaving. No words were spoken, no feelings expressed and he just left, plainly. Things were going so well between them that she couldn’t convince herself of one explanation, for why he would want out. She found it hard to believe. She felt tired; physically and mentally. It appeared as if all her strength and her will to live had boarded the plane along with him. All the while she was harboring a slight, foolish, hope that he would surely come back, though deep down, knowing that it was not possible. It was surreal and she didn’t want to accept it. Since the day that she had known that he was leaving, or more accurately left her while in presence, she was like the way she was there that day, distant and detached. She had thought, that maybe all that had happened, would take some time to sink in or perhaps would hit her unexpectedly. Right then, she realized that, that all these while, that was what she was waiting for, her final closure, seeing him leave, seeing him taken away from her. Numbness had gone, to make way for the feeling of desperation and insecurity, which seemed to grip every nerve. She felt almost lonely. She reflected back on the past, on their times spent together. Remembering the spoken words, the shared thoughts and the life lived, made her acknowledge that they would all be just memories, ghosts of the once wonderful life. An acute chill seemed to spread on her. But, she knew, however small and short lived that might have been, they have shared something hugely significant to both of them. And that small glow helped, to some extent, to dispel the pressing gloom. She needs to plough through. She needs to overcome it. She felt nauseous. She knew it had nothing to do with him leaving. It was due to something, a part of him, he had left behind, with her, in her. After all, he did not abandon her entirely.

In the background: Tune