.. I had to let him go.

… And I shall miss him dearly.

He was there all the way through past four years along with me. We shared more or less everything, from each gossip of my girl friends to each of the thousand prank calls I made. From each laughter, to each tear; from each smile, to each fear; He always remained by my side. But after a while, you somehow know it in your heart, that it’s not worth it, so many troubles are generating cause of him. Its not that it never happened before, trouble that is. But I always fought back, till the end, cause I had a hope it will work out. But now, I’ve even lost optimism.

He is an icon of my past, The Icon of magnificence and catastrophe. He was for Fun as well as Fuck-up, Merry as well as Mess. And I think I’ve have left him for good. In a hope that with leaving him, I’m also leaving my past to be buried in shadows.

… So here it goes. A tribute, an accolade to the years that I shared with him…. With my old companion… My much-loved Airtel Cell Number!!

… I shall miss you.

[… Uh oh… where did I put tissues… I will need them the most right now…]

Ps. I’m still fighting the urge to just run and grab him back, before it expires and worse, given to someone else…

Oh, life is getting busier as i’ve started getting back on my normal track of life. The normal routines. But i do steal time here n there to do my own stuff, and enjoy!

.. and so yeah, Monday night was so so SOOOO good. I mean think about it, after a stressful day, i spent my evening with all of my favorite things. Nothing can be compared to that. I fairly believe its the most precious of all the feelings.

The things that made my evening, were, first a Cheese Cake!! No one can deny that cheese cake is salvation. of course it comes after Chocolate cake. But still it is. And then a big fluffy couch to land onto, so then you can watch your favorite sitcoms on “starworld” with heavenly comfort, well, i really doubt if anyone ever need anything more!! But ten minutes passes, and He calls. ‘HE’ is my close friend, Prem, Childhood friend, actually me, him and LL used to be a team of pranksters in schooltime. Anyways he tells me that he is coming to my home, and i realize i need something more to make the evening merrier, I need my lovely best friend to be there, to fight with me for silly things. And yes, i do have a list of silly things that we usually fight for. After he arrived, We fought over who is going to get another spoon for him to eat the cheese cake!! Hell, i’m not going to do that, if i get a spoon he will eat my cake!!! I dont belive in ’sharing’ at times like this, i belive in selfishly having all to my self. So yeah, he then uses his last weapon, that he will use his hands if not spoon for the cake!! And trust me, this is NOT the time and the place where you want your men to use his hands!!!! So yeah, defeated for a moment, i get up and get him the spoon. When i come back, i see him stretched on MY couch now, grinning ear to ear. He has crossed the limits of my bearing now. I’m known as GARFIELD in this matters. None, NO-ONE can put a finger let alone sleep on my couch when i’m there! So yeah, i push him off, he doesnt budge. We keep on wrestling, and after sometime i come to a conclusion. I step in, over the couch and push him aside so that i can lay with him. He smilingly devilish welcomes me with an open arm and a spoon in another for my cake!!

… well everything’s well when end’s well, right??

.. Night… Half moon… Am standing at a bay… in front of an ocean water… or rather jello water… as thick as honey … in fact crimsonish in color … spreading wide under the horizon as far as i can stretch my sight… thick fog is layering over the surface… Fighting the urge… to jump in…Eventually i give in… Dive straight deep in… Strange… I dont surface up normally… floatnig in middle… breathing’s normal… Everything is still as long as I stay calm… I move… the water turns in quicksand… pushes me deeper in… Fighting the urge again… to panic… seems there is no way out… can not try to swim… just float half way… no sounds… nothing… feel like i’ve gone deaf… blind… cut off from everything… panic sets in… closes my eyes… darkness enveloping… no time… no space… everything is bliss….

…. I wake up, Call my Shrink as its early morning, And he laughs after listening to the dream, saying, “Ekta, probably you’ve forgotten, You’re Hydrophoebic!!”

Ektz.

PS. On a very lighter note: Tonight I’ll be watching out on TV for a person I have a HUGE crush on!!! Sure Sure, am going to say the name here, Its Vir Das. He’s a Delhite Theatre Artist and a Stand-up comedian. He of course looks adorable and he has something that I love in a guy. Manners with Intelligence. Means a man who is a combination of macho and metro sexual. I would love to date him someday, if I get a chance. I hope some miraculous thing happens and I get his phone number, or even better if he calls me!!! [Somebody…. get me his number… and… umm.. Mr. Vir Das, just in case if you are reading this…. CALL ME!!! Grins. ]
PS of the PS. I’ve started walking normally again with no support at all!. Now no bed rest anymore! Of course I’ve to be quite cautious about WHERE i walk, but over all, its one hell of a GREAT thing!! Yaaay!!!!!

He sat there quietly at the foot of their bed facing her, the fingers tapping smoothly over a piano at those hours of late morning. The sun was already high in the windowpane by the time she awoke; its warm glow filled the room. She was awaken due to the gentle melodious composition that he is playing from some time now. He looks at her, sensing she is awake. He stops playing for a moment to stand and attain her, wish her an exquisite good morning in his own little special way. She smiles, yet motions him to stay, with her fingers. He nods with a sparkling smile back, and gets back to playing.

Small things, she thinks, small things that makes this poignant bond stronger and simpler between us. Small things like this, where he understands what he is supposed to do, and what he is not. He keeps on playing, cause he knows she loves it. She just lays there on her front, her back almost uncovered by her blanket, facing him and listening to him. He keeps an eye on her expressions, as he plays. She keeps looking at him. She surveys his muscular body, how gorgeous he looks in that black silk nightshirt with just a few buttons closed. How his wavy dark-black locks play an added melody on his big brow, falling over his eyes quite a few times and He sets them back away subconsciously, with his slender fingers once in a while, between playing. His face looks angelic, with that smile. The morning sun shines superbly over his face and neck as if he’s more a stone sculpture of a man than a real one. Of course, sculpture is the word, she smiles, My creation after all.

She beckons him, with a snap of her finger. He had waited for this, for her to ask him. He had waited, and so set to work. He leaves the piano, and gets up over the bed, close to her. First, a kiss, set lightly on her back. Then the long flowing caresses the start of the start of the day. They speak quietly; recounting dreams from the night just past, and listen to the wind in the trees. The morning sets the tone for a day of gentle artistry.

She leaves the bed with him, for the day has to start, and there is lot to be done. She goes to her unfinished painting in the living room, looking at it in another light. She is adding color here and there as he stays by her side. She paints in her many media, coloring his flesh in shades of pink and purple at one time, coloring her canvas with a somewhat wider palette at another.

After a while, She relaxes to the gentle richness of red wine on the kitchen couch, as he stands near the kitchen counter, cutting and layering and mixing a simple meal. He may neither eat nor drink without her care, and she feeds him a taste now and again. The quiet control softens his walls, opens him up, so she may reach within.

Then She sculpts. Holding his hair, she pulls him down and makes him humble. She molds him within and without — working the body but shaping the soul. Kissing each tear, containing each struggle, she holds him close and takes the next step. She is the artist and the muse. In words, she plants the gentle thoughts of what could be. With her pencils, she draws waking dreams. With brushes upon skin, she shows the untapped possibilities inside his heart. She knows the hunger of the artist, to find the beauty that lies hidden and transform it so all may see. She knows the hunger of the muse, to inspire the artist. She feels the pull of both; they are shaped together.

The afternoon flows by and deepens into evening. By flickering light, the day’s creation is complete. One canvas, stretched tight, glistens in the corner as the paints slowly dry. Another “canvas”, held just as firmly but alive and breathing, sleeps gently on the living room sofa. She holds him close until he awakens, knowing the first changes are happening within.

Yet every painting must find its way into the light. The picture will go into a frame, then go on view. He will step out of this quiet place and back into the world. Both carry a message, of inner vision brought to light. Both will grow and change in the eyes of others as the artist’s vision is played out. And both will bring pleasure.

Eyes aglow, he stands before her. The ropes come off one by one, leaving their marks on his soul stronger so ever than on his body. Freedom returns slowly, yet he remains open to her. Finally, she removes the ropes that had limited his reach. For those hands will serve her the pleasure of music on the piano before sleep.

That night, with hunger unabated, her hands will serve him abstinence. And he will play his finest, over the ivories and beyond, knowing it’s her creation.