A Stone's Throw Away - *complete* Pg 14 - 02/01

Depart... & Return

I'd slept over my moment of revelation, over the storm in its wake ... inner and outside, and over the passing compensation offered by the instance of shocking her limbo with questions she hadn't seen coming.

I'd slept over the conflicting emotion of discovering her, and losing her in the same moment; the conflict of belated distinction of right from rights; the conflict in this resolve of starting fresh, for her, without her.

I had woken up, and done what was to be done. Called the panchayat, and set her free.

My teeth grit, fists clench painfully over tufts of hair, eyes pinch themselves tight, unbearably tight, but the tears escape in silent trails anyway, echoed in their silence by a breakdown I can't stuff inside anymore.

A knock on the door forces complacence; hasty, unprepared and overwhelmed I can't but show her my back. No more than I can help turning right back around, and begging her forgiveness. I may not have been wrong, but I've done wrong. For her, against her.

It's only when her hands embrace my folded own, that I realize how tedious I was finding it to breathe - I look her in the eye. Relieved and resigned. Her own relief is washing back softness to every line of her face that has been hard and set like a stone all these days. She's condoning me, thanking me, smiling at me...

I extend my hand in friendship and when she takes it, I think to myself ...this is my long road back home.

***

Being Normal

Finding my way into the kitchen, sans task or beckoning, first thing in the morning, tell tale signs of sleepiness lingered. I dropped my weight like a sack of potatoes, rubbed a hand over my face – admittedly disturbed – curiously although, not about whether or not this is still the most natural way to begin a morning of a day in the life of me, and why.

As natural as it was, it turned out, for her to echo my name in question, then name my concern in answer herself. I nod, slowly, as the muse hits me.

Where again, was the last decade of my life? What had my days been like without this routine? Without her? I must have been on drugs.

Past my thoughts, I hear her assurance. She's justifying Mota Bha's love as above and beyond conditions of our unintentional disregard and his fair displeasure. I just look at her, trying not to read into those words. But how pray, should I not.

Manaa lenge na?... I ask her, and she assures me without a second's hesitance. And for that moment, I sit basking in the bliss of her affirmation, just that, perspective put to bay.

Until a glass of milk extended under my nose serves unwarranted distraction to my perceived extent of her promise. I frown at the glass, then at her, and question; she insists it's only best for me – and I try to butt in a word of dissent – but she additionally insists about her prerogative to insist, as a friend. A chimera of me steps out of my person, points a finger at me and laughs, from behind her – in relief, in disbelief, in euphoria… at the return of patronizing Gulaal. I fight the my smile, because a forcefully patronized Kesar is not supposed to make peace.

So I frown harder at her. Counter insist about wanting my tea. But really, I'm just playing our familiar game. How did we go from fire and ice to a lukewarm kitchen bickering, status quo, in the span of a mere day?

Normal is boring and over rated, and normal is certainly not her or me. Yet unbelievably, we've both found our benediction in this return of normalcy between.

She challenges me to make my own tea, and I retort at her mocking. Take the challenge and set off to concoct some disaster.

Who cares what becomes of the tea? I'll raise it in toast to us, and it will taste good.

***

Originally posted by: -Srushti-

I am all

Originally posted by: scarletthara

Zjee... wow... I don't have words to say about your writing... I am becoming a big fan of your style... you do wonders to prose... I keep marveling at your posts, and refrain from commenting as I don't want to add the lame "excellent, loved it" bits...

But, this thread had me so captivated that I HAD to come and say thanks for writing so beautifully and giving us a treat by showcasing Kesar's emotions, which I can sooo imagine him with... really lovely post...

--- Minks

Originally posted by: Gman

Shrusti, I am 2. What a writing it is?

Originally posted by: trinitynyx

JZee, your a fantastic writer. I enjoyed your little tidbits from Kesar's POV. Please write some more, lol :D