Standing near a glass window he looked at the three musketeers, Shree, Chotu & Riya, laughing and hitting each other playfully.
The smiles and laughter.........
The friendship and care.....
The inside jokes.....
The sight radiated warmth, the warmth of friendship, the warmth of understanding, the warmth of companionship.
He thought about the times in his life when he had such friendships and felt that warmth in his heart.
When he used to laugh guilt-free.
When he was surrounded by caring individuals.
When he had friends to share inside jokes.
When he was the carefree, happy-go-lucky soul.
When it was the three of them, not just him...
Sameer, Arjun & Roshni.
Reminiscing about those two made his heartache.
It was impossible to bring back one, and the other.....
His mind told him that perhaps the other one could not be brought back either, and he sighed defeatedly.
Maybe physically but not emotionally.
The thought itself intensified the pain.
He was never that broken even after losing his home, even after his father refused to accept him with his dreams.
However, this strained friendship had caused him great emotional pain.
As though those shattered fragments were still stuck in his heart and continued to bleed intermittently.
Why do happy moments always turn into painful ones later?
Grasping his shirt as though he was trying to breathe, Arjun pondered.
This burdened and heavy heart was not helping him in any way. He was actually feeling the air shortage.
The emptiness was killing him. The loneliness was engulfing him. Inside, he was finishing up slowly.
He retreated a step, grabbed his keys, and walked out of the office with a heavy heart.
He could not remember how he managed to drive to his destination with blurry vision because the tears continued to come back, even after repeatedly rubbing his eyes harshly with the back of his hand.
He looked around and tried to grab about his surroundings.
Where was he?
These white walls seem similar.
Even the things around were quite known to him.
His gaze flits around, settling on the photo-covered blue wall.
The wall was covered with pictures of him, his late wife Roshni, and his former best friend Sam.
He was in his own apartment, which was once his home, where he used to live.
How oblivious was he that he was unaware of how he got here?
Was it the first time? He somehow found himself there every night. The fact that he ended up here was nothing new.
Despite the pain, he was unable to stop himself from being there.
The memories stung his heart each time, but he allowed it to happen.
Why?
He questioned himself as he found his eyes remained fixed on those photos.
Maybe he had become used to this pain.
Maybe he had accepted his fate.
Maybe that's what he deserved.
Those photos perfectly captured their joyous moments.
The laughter, the smiles, the contentment, and the happiness.....
It was all picture-perfect.
Everything was flawless.
Yes, once everything was flawless.
But now....., those happy moments were piercing his already vulnerable heart.
He repressed the impulse to yell, to scream, to demolish everything.
The amount of time he spent gazing at those photos was lost on him until his phone buzzed.
Without checking the caller ID, he took out his phone and placed it on his ear.
"Rawte, where are you?................"
Even though Rathore was talking endlessly, he continued to focus on the pictures rather than the person on the other end of the phone. However, his mind got stuck at one particular point.
How their dynamics changed from being Sam & Arjun to Rathore & Rawte!
The distance between them.
The lost friendship.
The broken bond.
Was there anything that was repairable or fixable?
He asked himself.
No!
His heart told him.
It can never be the same again.
This thought overwhelmed him.
"Rawte, are you even there?.........."
He hung up the phone without answering Rathore's question.
In a daze, he made his way to his room. Even though it would hurt, he continued to move forward.
He was never able to protect himself from getting hurt.
The emptiness, the silence around him, the hollowness of his heart, everything was just adding to his anxiety.
He collapsed onto the bed, allowing all inhibitions to melt away as the tears soaked into the pillow's fabric.
That pillow had been a witness to his vulnerable moments for a long time.
How many times had he wept uncontrollably while lying on this side of the bed with his head resting on that particular pillow?
He had lost count of.
He clutched the pillow who was as always ready to absorb the pain his tears brought.
That's how his nights were.
The silence of the room struck him, and the strength he had carried all day dissolved. His vulnerability overcame his fortitude, and he allowed those moments of weakness to be embraced in the night's darkness.
The next day he had to wake up strong, once again wearing the mask of indifference, masking his emotions with anger and hiding his vulnerability beneath the facade of strength.
Only if someone had been aware of how his nights were.
His nights mirrored void, the absolute emptiness.
_________________________________
Cricket
Hindi TV Shows
69