Days of our Lives!

May 28, 2008

Elysium…

Filed under: Fiction,Top Draws — Santhosh @ 8:32 PM

“Excuse Me, ‘scuse me!”, she muttered, as she brushed past more people. It was a beautiful winter day and the chill breeze made her shiver a little, a slight drizzle beginning to wet her shoulders. She tugged at her shawl, his shawl which she had kept, and felt the warm fabric against her skin. Dawn was just breaking and fireworks were lighting up the early morning sky on this Republic Day, as the cadets marched proudly in precision past her and the other spectators toward the podium where she knew the guest-of-honour would be waiting patiently. He always did.

Her mind wandered back to 7 years ago, to a day not very different, to a day in her first semester of college. In her mind’s eye, she could still see him, a fellow student with dreams she had first seen in class all those years ago. He was wearing khaki trousers and shirt, the lab uniform, the shirt with the top button open to reveal a black tee inside, a ready smile playing across his cheerful face as he walked into class with his friends.

A week later. It was the India-Pakistan World Cup match day. And India had just won. Professor Vasudevan had dismissed class early. Everyone in class was shouting. The group of boys who had bunked class to watch the match had just come in, and they added to the pandemonium. She was carefully trying to print a tattoo sticker of Dravid, her beloved Dravid, onto her wrist. She had just applied water and was carefully peeling away the paper when someone bumped her elbow, leaving Dravid without patches of his face. It was him. All she could do was glare as he waved his hand in apology, his lips still curled in a half grin, as the noisy group moved on.

It was the lunch break and she was taking her lunch in a corner. He came into the classroom and looked around, searching. And he seemed to find only one vacant seat among the many – the seat beside her. She had her bag on it, and he walked up to her and asked her if he could sit.
“No, its taken” she said.
“By whom?”
“My bag”, she replied with a withering look.
He moved the bag and sat.
“So do you always take your lunch here?”, he asked.
“Are you always this miserable, or is it just in front of me”.
“It must be you, for not having met you for 17 years of my life”.
She was getting irritated at this guy, who after spoiling her tattoo, was now acting smart.
“Please leave before I give you a piece of my mind”, she told him with barely controlled anger.
“Well, a piece would do for starters”
She didn’t remember the rest.
After some time, he got up, replaced her bag onto the seat with a smile, winked and left. She was so irritated she got up too, pushed off her lunch box, picked up the lid to close it – and found a single Dravid tattoo sticker.

Everyday he would come over, and sit right there, beside her. They seemed to get on much better as time passed. She found him to be a person of many facets. Her young, innocent heart found him enchanting as she got to know him more. Without speaking, he made her smile. Without moving, he made her wince. Without breathing, he made her pant.

She used to sing for the college orchestra and he used to drum his fingers on the desk as she sat by him practising her humming. She still remembered how his face shone when he tried to teach her to whistle. How restless he used to be, while she did the graphs for his record work. How smart he had looked in the white shirt she had forced him to wear. How mischievously his eyes glinted and how his face always seemed so full of life.

She couldn’t recall the exact moment when they decided to intertwine their lives. Neither proposed. They just knew. Destiny, she called it. He called it love. And both laughed at the way she had started on giving him a piece of her mind and ended up giving him her heart, she taking him in with those big eyes of hers.

It was a beautiful winter day and the chill breeze made her shiver a little, a slight drizzle beginning to wet her shoulders. She tugged at her shawl, his shawl which she had kept, and felt the warm fabric against her skin. Dawn was just breaking and fireworks were lighting up the early morning sky on this Republic Day, as the cadets finished their march and stood at attention facing the podium, the spectators standing up as one.

There he was, the impish half grin playing across his cheerful face, the entire college saluting him.
She couldn’t help thinking, “just like old times“!
She walked across to the podium and knelt down, the shawl dropping onto the grass, off one shoulder.
She didn’t cry.
She brought her hands together.
Time stood still.

There he was, in a framed photograph.

ps: inspired by an old post of Shravan’s

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15 Comments »

  1. Nice 🙂

    Comment by Aparna — May 29, 2008 @ 12:14 PM | Reply

  2. chance ee illa da.. really nice story telling 🙂 🙂

    Comment by Sathz — May 29, 2008 @ 3:00 PM | Reply

  3. Breathless

    Comment by Danny — May 29, 2008 @ 3:42 PM | Reply

  4. man,….u touched my heart

    Comment by V — June 4, 2008 @ 1:29 AM | Reply

  5. Woww…one of the best stories ive read in quite some time now!

    Comment by Hakuna Matata — June 19, 2008 @ 6:51 PM | Reply

  6. dude, amazing post

    Comment by B — June 19, 2008 @ 8:14 PM | Reply

  7. Nice narration. Good read da.

    Comment by Arun Ponniah Sethuramalingam — June 20, 2008 @ 12:23 AM | Reply

  8. dude, u write mind blowing….. i hv orredi read some 30 or more posts of urs…. its a nice addiction, be a bit more regular….and lots of kudos to u….less than nthn/no-one.keep bloggin…..best wishes~ abhi

    Comment by abhi binani — July 21, 2008 @ 11:22 PM | Reply

  9. @aparnathanks@sathzne dhan gtalk status a indha post link a pottavana?@dannyVisit a doc. Or atleast send me your insurance id number!

    Comment by santhosh — July 27, 2008 @ 1:01 AM | Reply

  10. @vI’d prefer your wallet!@hakuna matataEr – how much time exactly does “quite some time” comprise of?

    Comment by santhosh — July 27, 2008 @ 1:05 AM | Reply

  11. @bDuh?@sapMachi, thanks da!@abhiMe the orae blushings!!!

    Comment by santhosh — July 27, 2008 @ 1:08 AM | Reply

  12. simply amazingu’re better known for your humour, but man u shd write more of this too..!

    Comment by ashwini — July 28, 2008 @ 8:27 PM | Reply

  13. Great storytelling dude!!To be frank I could guess the storyline in the first para itself but it was ur narrative style that kept my interest intact. The emotions were well transferred to the reader and the choice of words impeccable.Looking forward to more such posts…

    Comment by Shashank — August 6, 2008 @ 7:27 PM | Reply

  14. Poignant!

    Comment by rekha — December 12, 2008 @ 10:29 PM | Reply

  15. touching, after reading so much of ur blogs, dint look like u had a senti side!

    Comment by nayana — December 17, 2008 @ 1:46 AM | Reply


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