The clock strikes, announcing yet another painful midnight for a man in his late twenties. The solemn face, empty eyes and slightly graying hair defies his youth, almost as if he has lived life of an old man. Picking up yet another bottle of the finest whisky, he walks into the abandoned portion of his house, the only place he calls home. Fond memories surround his being but not without leaving behind an intense pang of separation, a distance he can never cover in this lifetime. Each passing day burdens his heart with guilt and self loathe. Drinking away the pain seems easier than coming face to face with a gnawing reality.
Home, gentle and safe.
The charred sofas remind him of the days he sat with his father and discussed about almost anything, be it religion, love or a career with so much enthusiasm that his father often had to slow him down as a wise man would always do. After all, uncontrolled ambition is dangerous. Then, how did things escalate out of control in no time?
A broken frame takes him back to the day when they clicked the picture gracing this blessed wall. It was his parent's wedding anniversary and he arranged a photo session for the entire family. Everyone made merry and dressed up for the best photo session of their lives. After all, Raghav always had a good taste, even in his teenage years. Who would have known that was going to be their last time together?
Keerti was crying because her dress was stained by Arjun's paints. She definitely made a ruckus out of the whole situation until Raghav stepped in and erased the stain off her crisp clothes. It was definitely a clean job, and Keerti was finally happy and ready for the photo session. But then Arjun started crying because he felt sorry about hurting Keerti, his favorite sister, not that he had any other sisters. It was definitely a messy day for Raghav, having to control his younger siblings and making sure his Amma and Appa were dressed exactly the way they did on their wedding day. It's tough to be the eldest, he thought, but he loved it.
"Arjun, why are you crying?" Raghav carries him in his arms and asks lovingly, wiping away his copious tears.
"Because Keerti Di is "cying". I did not want to hurt Keerti Di" Arjun sobs incoherently.
"Don't cry, you're my brave little warrior. Did I not tell you the story of Arjun and Bheem? Can I become Bheem again?" Raghav tickles little Arjun, immediately taking away all his sadness.
He loved to see Arjun laugh his heart out.
"Bhaiya, will you always be there to make me laugh?" asks little Arjun, oh so innocently, in between his laughter riot.
"Always"
Raghav made a promise then to himself. That he shall always be an armor to his siblings. Then how did he become the bearer or misfortune for his most beloved Arjun?
The memories never cease to cut his wounds deeper, if that was even possible. It's been over ten years since the fateful day they were separated, not by distance but by the circle of life and death. A thundering sky breaks him out of his reverie and he slips back into his uncontrolled drinking, hoping to douse the fire that burns in him every moment of his life.
Staggering his way to an old closet, he carefully extracts his one companion through all these years. Holding it close to his heart, he recalls how beautiful it felt when he was gifted this amazing diary by his beloved Arjun on the occasion of his sixteenth birthday. Little Arjun was only six then. But he always knew that Raghav loved writing, a hobby very few were aware of. Little Arjun would sit and admire his "Aaghav', as he fondly called him, while Raghav wrote away in that very diary. Arjun's inability to speak the word "R" always made Raghav chuckle.
"Aaghav, what are you doing?' asks Arjun, sprawled on the floor like a curious child.
"I'm writing a poem"
"What is a poem?" His innocent questions never stopped, the curious boy that he always was.
"Arjun, let your Anna finish writing, then he'll tell you a story, okay?" speaks Raghav, smiling at his innocent little brother.
"Okay Aaghav" and Arjun sits quietly until Raghav drops everything he's doing and takes little Arjun out for a walk and a story session. This was the most beautiful routine he developed with Arjun.
Arjun is gone, but the diary remains, holding memories that can never be replaced by any treasure in this world.
A poem for each year that has passed after Arjun's demise makes its way in the revered pages. Raghav would not write anything else, for fear of filling up the pages before his time is up in this unbearable world.
Sitting down on the cold floor, he opens the pages once again, running his fingers through the dried ink and the dried tears. Each poem, each message to his beloved Arjun breaks him apart. Not a day passes without the fond memories of his innocent eyes and his naïve questions. Not a day passes without reliving the fateful day. Time does not heal all wounds.
Another year, a blank page calling out to him, almost as if Arjun extending his little hands, reaching out to his sad "Aaghav".
"My dear Arjun,
Happy birthday to you, my lovely little baby.
You are seventeen today.
A handsome young man you would have surely made!
Forgive me, my little angel, once again, for I cannot visit you where you lay,
There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground where you lay,
But my love for you shall never be shortened by a grave,
For you live in my heart, each passing day,
Forgive me, my little angel, once again, for I could not save you from clutches of fate,
How I wish it were me, and not you, my sweet brother,
The fire inside my heart lets me not live,
It burns, but never warms my being,
I wait for the day when we will meet, once again,
I wait for the day when I can read all my poems,
Only to you my sweet brother,
Until we meet again, Rest In Peace my little angel!
"A fire that keeps burning, without signs of warming. A heart that keeps loving, without signs of living,
You are not dead, I am.
I am not alive, but you are, in my heart, always!"
Yours, Aaghav Anna.
****************************************************
A nagging dread washes over me, paralyzing me. I panic, I am alive. Why will the pain not take me away, is the suffering endless? Fear, an unknown realm. Parched, I need water. There is nothing around me. No sign of life, just a heart that does not stop beating, not mine. The nightmare, an endless loop.
"Raghav, wake up! Wake up!".
I wake with a jolt, a throbbing pain.
"Pallavi?"
She's standing by my bed. I quickly sit up and find myself in her soft embrace, stroking my hair gently as if wanting to take away all my fears.
"Who is Arjun?"
END.
Hello everyone! I'm back with another OS. This time I thought of writing about Raghav's brotherly bond with his younger brother. In the show, we get to see glimpses of the loving boy Raghav used to be, his bond with his siblings and how they were a happy family, him being his Amma's favorite. I wanted to pen this down for what may be Raghav's inner turmoil. He must have been a father figure to his younger brother, as all older siblings are. He must have loved his youngest sibling the most. The guilt of him being the reason of his brothers death must be a cruel emotion for anyone to feel, I cannot even imagine how his heart holds up every single day. So this was for the brothers, sibling love, one of the most pure bonds in one's life.
Let me know how you like it!
Okay I can’t tag for some reason.
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Cricket
