This had hit me so hard, Because i think this is what happened in my case, He didn't changed, I thought he will, after every fight, arguments, quarrels whatever you say, He used to hang up on me, He didn't answered my call straight 2 days, weeks maybe and sometimes months, Might be having 500+ missed calls from my side but won't answer it, And when in no mood of arguing and for the sake of just hearing his voice when I call him, at that time he will pick that up, will make me sorry for the stupidest thing and it used to be okay like before, What he didn't know was that I was counting all that okay, How long could I make you calm for your anger, How many times I have to beg and cry to not leave me, Just because I wanted an eternity with you, Because I was so obsessed with idea of it fed by society, first love shall be the last love, You aren't characterless, how could you think of that, but as we all know, things happens when you least expect, All my fears came true, When you were doing that again, When there was miscommunication between us, I decided to stop communicating with you at all, As I could not stand and explain you everything, When all I know you will just hear, And won't believe me, When there is no trust why should I beg for it, So wasn't it better to just leave, So I left. As this picture says.
You hang yourself to those unfinished dreams all night until finally you give up to those morning hues. These colors, they have this perfect sequence, first orange with a dark shade of red slowly turns into a deep blue and then finally a sea color.
You don't remember much about the last night or the day, but you do remember vividly that someone was there, with you, walking side by side. You could see yourself laughing, without trying so hard, enjoying her company, she just knew how to make you smile and that's rare you know, for you.
You remember taking a detour, sitting across a sea, and you had a company of her, what a perfect company it was, she wasn't that talkative, just like you. So you both talked a little about what a tiring day you both had and then about how you both like country music and then finally silence, just waves hitting rocks and wind whispering into your ears. Those city lights were like stars drawn towards you, just for both of you, only for that night.
It's morning now and you think how stupid you were to don't even ask her name, but then you smiled and made up your mind that let it stay like this only, one of those happy dreams, dream that seems so real but when you try to hold on to it, it's really gone, like it wasn't even there in the first place.
It rained heavily last night. Like her Gods were crying; mourning for the ones they were taking away from this world. And the rain didn’t stop until morning, drowning the city in the almighty’s sorrow. Daylight revealed the sunken city, trying to get back up like an already defeated fighter. After standing almost three hours in a queue for her medicines, my legs were giving up. My eyes and mind were still adjusting after all the bald people gathered in one place. With a plastic bag full of ORS and pills, I turned in the lobby where her room was. I stood by a small blackboard at the front of the lobby. It was displaying the patients’ name and their room number. It was all written with chalk, so you could tell who has been newly admitted by looking at the brightness of the name. Brighter the name, newer the patient. But there was one name which was faintly holding on to that black surface. One person, whose stay had outlived the life of her name on that board.
A sigh came out of my mouth as I walked towards her room. My legs followed the path unconsciously but my mind wandered off. I tried remembering the last time we went on a dinner date, but before I could count years, my legs stopped. I was standing in front of the room number 26. Our home.
“What are you staring at? Tell me, what “her majesty” is seeing?” I asked her as the door behind me shut close. She was sitting in her bed, staring outside of the window. She was glued to the view as it wasn’t a window but a theatre’s screen.
“Clouds? The rain? Duh, the petrichor? No, you can’t see a smell. The dark, misty and sad weather?” I continued babbling and those silly words succeeded in grabbing her attention. She turned her head towards me in response. I was suspiciously getting good at hiding my emotions lately. But she always looked through my act. Call her a magician or a witch, but she always looked through. I put the bag on the table, grabbed the chair and sat next to her bed.
“Naah. There are multiple things. First, the colors. The first rain of season washes away the ashes of summer and the world turns brighter. Like, the God opens up the Photoshop and turns the saturation up a little bit. Damp footpaths. Not waterlogged, of course not, but wet enough to reflect the surroundings in them. Wet enough to bring the sky beneath your feet. I believe, it is the closest you can ever get to walking on the sky.” She said. Her voice still had a ring to it. A positive vibe. And her face, as expressive as always. If you looked at her, you couldn’t tell if there is wrong with her at all. She would look like a perfectly healthy person as long as there was a scarf on her head.
A silence followed her words. I imagined the dusty trees getting washed up by a shower and Ivy jumping in the puddles like a small child. My mind repeated her words for a few times in my head but one word echoed the most. God.
“It’s funny that you mention it. After all the happenings, do you still believe that he exists?” I broke the silence.
“Yeah, I do. I still have faith. Everything is happening for a good reason and each happening is taking us towards a better tomorrow.” She turned her head to watch outside the window again.
“Is it the sedatives that are doing all the talking or is it really you?” I almost shouted.
“What’s the difference? If I cut my wrist right now, I don’t believe there will be any blood. Instead, a fluid of mysterious color would rush to the surface. A mixture made up of all the pills and injections I am consuming lately. Ah, I wouldn’t even need to make a cut. Look at my punctured veins...” she held her right hand against her face gave it a thorough look and continued. ”…the chemicals are desperately trying to blitz out.”
“That’s exactly my point. This-“ I pointed at a tube carrying the medicine from a bottle and merging with her body. “-is certainly not a God’s doing. And if it is, then he is certainly not my God. Assuming that he exists.”
“Tell me then, what do you believe? This world is a mere coincidence in this universe? The stardust decided to just get together and make this planet thrive with LIFE without any Godly interference?” She took a pillow in her lap and rested her hands on it, looking at me curiously, as if I was about to pull a bunny out of a magical hat.
“Life? Where? I don’t see any. All I see is a horde of zombies living the same old life every day. Life? Look at us, and look into my eyes; tell me we have a life. Which part of this pathetic life did we choose by ourselves? Hell, we can’t even control the heartbeat of our own hearts; probably one of the most if not the most essential organ in the body. Doesn’t that tell you anything? We are NOT in control. Do you want to know what do I believe in? I do believe that there exists a higher living being, who is most probably controlling our world; including our actions. Maybe they are immortals or maybe they aren’t. Maybe they created us or maybe we are a byproduct of something bigger than ourselves. We don’t know for sure, but I know this for certain – our life is just a cruel joke to them. Maybe we are in a TV show. What is it called? Oh yes, the reality show. Maybe we are the star of some reality show and they are filming our lives right now. For all I know, your sickness could just be a way to draw some TRP…” I stopped immediately as I realized that my mouth threw a lot of words at her.
“Wow. That’s a lot coming out of your mouth. A rare occasion.” She made a fake surprised face in a desperate attempt to cheer me up. I would have hugged her for that, and kissed her if it wasn’t for those tubes connected to her body. FUCK, I yelled in my mind.
“Now, now. No cursing. You know the rules.” She caught me off-guard.
“Are you catching my brain waves and reading my mind? You should get your super powers checked.” My sarcasm kicked in as my primary line of defense. Yeah, as you can see, my primary line of defense is weak.
“I can read mind. Mind, as in singular. Just one. Only one I care about. All those CT scans are paying off, I guess.” I was amazed that even in a time like this she was able to smile.
“You know what do I see in those damp footpaths?” I tried to change the topic. “An alternate dimension. For a few brief moments, a glimpse of that alternate dimension appears in front of us – rather beneath us. But, yeah. We are always too busy living our so called “lives” that we don’t even take a good look at that. Imagine a universe existing just beneath our feet, identical in every aspects except one. Only difference is that they are the ones in control. And we… We are their mere reflections. I strongly believe, one day the reflection beneath my feet will not follow my actions. Or rather, I won’t follow his actions. One day, this feeling of not having ‘control’ will vanish.” I took the chance, but it seemed like it didn’t work. She was looking through the window again, followed by a silence. I kept looking at her. Or whatever remained of her. I closed my eyes for a while and with time, I drifted off.
The dragging of the table woke me up. I opened my eyes just to find her standing up. She had uncovered her wound suction drain unit. It was a small plastic cylinder, gathering the liquid her body was rejecting. It was attached to her body via a transparent pipe – which was then full of orange liquid. I believed that she wanted to walk a little in the room.
“I have become the genie. Your personal wish granting factory. Tell me, what you want. Your wish is my command.” She said, placing the cylinder in both of her hands with a quirky smile on her face. A face she used to make every time she had mischief in her mind. It was remarkable, that even after so many hardships she never failed to miss any opportunity to pull my leg. And she was correct; the device actually looked like a lamp of genie and she looked like the genie herself, minus her appearance. It almost made me chuckle. But my mind quickly buried itself deep underneath the grave of sadness. A mere thought of genie started a chain reaction in my brain and my jar of wishes swung open. The wishes were crumpling inside like a domino effect. My every little wish was wanting to get released in to the atmosphere in hopes of getting fulfilled.
“I have always wished if we could have met earlier.” I spoke after what it felt like a pause of eternity.
“And, I am just happy that we came to know each other. That’s the thing. You always keep complaining about that one unfulfilled wish rotting in the corner of your life, forgetting about all the fulfilled ones you hold in your hands.”
“I have always wished if we could have lived a happy life. A life without these superabundant hospital bills. A life where I take you to Vienna for honeymoon, just as I promised. A life where we have two children. A rebellious boy and a shy girl. And we debate on which school is best for them. We go camping for the weekend without checking the weather forecast and come back fully soaked. We…“ I stopped as a tear rolled over her sunken cheeks. I was hurting her. As I always have. Maybe the wishes I was suppressing within me were too wild to be granted, even by a genie.
“The genie is accepting only one wish.” She said.
I knew what I wanted the most. It was a wish which made its home at the edge of my mind and on the tip of my tongue.
One fine day, God felt A need to create something. So he took out an empty canvas And started painting.
He started with the eyes. Darker than vantablack, yet so wholesome. Like two black holes side by side Even light can't escape them.
Hair so dark and silky smooth, It turned out just fabulous. It'll slip right out of your hands, Just like how the sand does. Teeth so white, they shine fulgent Even brighter than Sirius The cheeks so pinkish and fruity They looked so delicious.
Lips so dark and red, yet full of life Just like the blood which flows in my veins Everything wasn't perfect but it was fine We'll call it perfect imperfections.
He completed the painting And he was happy with it It was a beautiful child And truly a masterpiece!
But something was wrong, he noticed. Apparently, It was the missing smile. He couldn't think of a solution But one thing came to his mind. He took out another canvas and started painting again He drew me, but in a hurry this time.