Can't wait to read further chapters. And how beautifully you've penned down their turmoil.
Our show writers should take some tips
Originally posted by: raahiyaan
Can't wait to read further chapters. And how beautifully you've penned down their turmoil.
Our show writers should take some tips
Chapter 5
Dear Diary, Suman scribbled
I'm hurt and they are hurting me, everybody. I can't forget the way my father looked at me when I held Shravan's hand. I can't forget his distrust, his bitter gaze of disgust. It made me feel like a monster. As if, I was a stranger my father had met for the first time. That I should have been in bed and not defending my love for the boy I had given my heart to. I wonder if my father realized that I had to summon energies of all kinds to hold his hand in front of our families and to look in his eyes as if only he mattered. He had pulled me apart, dismissing my pleas, had pushed me away to Pune as if I was a stain on his reputation. I know now, what he had meant. He had just wanted me to stay away from distractions, maybe from my happiness. But still, he could have told me otherwise for a moment- that he trusted me, that he didn't completely think of me as a disappointment, that Shravan was a boy I could give my heart too, that my choices weren't garbage and vain. If only!
I LOVE YOU PAPA, BUT I AM TOO HURT TO NOT SAY THIS. PARDON ME. I know I am dirty, so what difference will it make?
I can still remember my mother's subtle look at my 'illogical' statements about love. They think of it as some ailment to be a teenager in love. After crying my eyes out, she had just told me that it will pass over, that I will laugh it off in the future. But did it happen? Certainly not!!
I am still in that darkness, that thunderstorm which dares to tear my soul apart. I am still hurting, mother! And you left me. But still, my mother's memory is like a cool breeze to my brain, they neither drown me nor keep me afloat. It's like an indifferent feeling of numbness. Just numbness.
At last, Shravan. This man, who felt like a medicine to my rigid and robotic sadness and boredom betrayed me in my dullest time. He left me all alone when I was smoldering in the grief of death and separation. My chest used to ache so, so badly. There were days I could feel nothing but my tears, my vision blurring into mossiac, my textbooks becoming alien. I held myself together, by cutting everything that pulled me apart! As ironic it might sound, I pushed back people, family members, and friends, because none had the authority to hurt me.
I had called Shravan almost every year. In the starting, it was about apologizing. I wanted to make amends. He was the drug to my disease, the disease which had loomed through my soul, of self-hatred and self-guilt. His one word- could have saved me, so I tried! I tried harder each time! Even if the automated voice told me that it was out of network or switched off. Later on, it became just about listening to his voice. The court case had progressed in the course, and I have been told to hate him and his father left, right, and center. But as crazy a woman I am, I still saw the cracks in that facade. Shamelessly, I still tried his number, because I needed to hear his voice. The base, that could hum in the back of my eardrums, the pitch that could seal my broken heart, the dream I shall carry in my sleep- his voice. But he never picked it up. My hands shivered, my heart prayed and my brain dialed- but he didn't pick it up for once! Once, Shravan Malhotra had been a cure to my sadness, but now he was just venom. Seriously!
Suman cried as she tried focussing more on the paper.
Yeah, yeah! Seriously! I am saying it to you, diary! DAMN!!!!!
Suman screeched at her pen. She so wanted to write that she hated him, but it wasn't happening. That she wanted him out of his life.
NO! She wrote, hysterical at her hands. NO! I DON'T HATE HIM. I LOVE HIM, I DO, AND I KNOW I AM CRAZY. I want him, I want him to stay and live with me, I want to hurt him, but he should stay, because, because.....
As more tears streamed down Suman's face she heard a commotion at the door.....
---
It was early in the morning, almost 7:30. She was on her table, writing and crying furiously when Shravan entered the door, packed and jammed in his Army uniform. He stood, as he watched Suman look hysterically for the cap of her pen. She moved furiously, silently wiping her tear stricken face. She was writing in that diary, he had seen yesterday night in her room. It was opened, the pages almost yellow and the ink so fresh that it strained his nostrils. There was she, crying and writing. His hands shivered a bit, so he fisted them and put it back in his pocket. He wanted to embrace her or just run away, nothing in the middle seemed possible.
'Yes.' She stood erect, in her polka dot satin night suit. It looked awfully cute on her. Her comforter still preserved that caricature from her teenage years, her room pretty much the same. There are certain things a human can do, like- preserve the past in non-living objects. It's an illusion to save ourselves from the reality of a blizzard. It felt warm even if the storm was cold and numbing.
'I am going to the Cantt.' he gulped, thinking if she could catch the sudden change in his behavior pattern. If she could read him and tell that he knows everything about her.
'Perfect! Brilliant!' She smiled a bit at him and then suddenly clenched her jaw. Don't smile at him! she nudged her brain. But there was something really magnetic about the uniform when he wore it. The three golden stars on his shoulder straps, his medals- they made her flutter. After all, she was a captain too- but wasn't that so obvious? Her whole family was in the army, and her being there didn't surprise anybody. But Shravan! It was the biggest shock of her life, first, she felt tongue-tied, and then for a minute she couldn't help but absorb each feature of his "Captain" personality. He was there, her wish and her dream. But with an expiry date.
'Umm, your shawl?' he pointed out at the absence of her favorite stole and she slapped her head.
'Oi!' Suman looked around 'Is it still down, in the lawn?' She asked, disappointed at her mistake. And then something else came flooding into her brain. She opened and closed her mouth, that how maddening was it to forget something so embarrassing.
'Yeah, it's very much in the drawing-room now. Okay, see yah...' Shravan sensed her discomfort and excused himself. He had a plan. He won't steal her diary but shall pick up his information from her directly.
It was time to know if she still loved him or not?
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because, because.....I know I don't feel alive without him.
Bye for today!
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