Posted:
Note: Read at your own risk. This is a perspective on the ShivIka conversation from today.
Okay this is completely unedited, but I would have forgotten if I did not post this.
I don't think the words he didn't say needed to be said anyway, because
'jab baatein khatam ho jaati hain, tab khamoshiyaan shuru hoti hain'
I think Om said this.
I don't think he needed to say any words because he showed her that she mattered. SSO: a power no one can stop, stopped in silence to watch over a girl he cannot bear to part from.
While those words hung in the air around them, she felt stifled by the gaze she could feel shifting, just like she felt the shift in the space between when when he said
'I'll see you tomorrow'
The hesitation in his voice as he said those words, she would perhaps never guess what it meant for him to say them.
The hope, the final certainty in his voice, his desperation that this is the one last thing he DOES have control over: I'll see you tomorrow.
He left the other words unsaid: If I don't see you tomorrow, I will never be able to go through with any of this, this being the hot mess my life is at the moment.
I'll see you tomorrow.
Her affirmation was life-affirming for him: jee, kal milte hain.
One last time, meet me one last time, the air seemed to hum.
And yet, he could not let her go.
To drop her home, to not let her disappear from in front of his eyes for a few moments yet, to delay the inevitable, lonely, depressingly silent drive alone.
He didn't think he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, they were becoming a whirlpool of emotions he had no energy or inclination for.
'Come I'll drop you home'
As usual, she said no. She never needed anyone, and she does not need him. Her independence in even this led his stubbornness aflame, and yet, he relented.
Becoming flexible, listening to her talk over the past few weeks had created in him a corner where only her words could penetrate, the only light in the darkest corners of his heart, corners no one had ever had any access to.
'main yahan wait karta hoon'
The gentle way in which she almost reassures him to go, that she'll reach her own home, a few steps away, safely, without his protection, without his needing to wait for her.
The exasperated certainty with which he said,
'I'll wait'
The resignation in that voice. He absolutely cannot let himself walk (drive) away from her. He cannot abandon her again, and so he waits, he watches her go.
Perhaps it is also a masochistic unconscious punishment: He watches the one person he wants by his side, walk away from him.
He lets her go but he waits.
Perhaps because he knows, like his silly baby brother, that in desperately wanting a miracle, he is expecting for one too. And she is his first and last miracle.
Cricket
