Baby, I Love You!!!

       Amidst the blaring cacaphony of loud jarring horns that came from the multitude of cars, he sat in his car. The battle scars of his life were now beginning to show on his face. A thick patch of strands of white hairs near his ears, a wrinkled skin. If not for his ID, no one would believe that he was just 42-years old. Everyday while going to or coming from office, amidst this same mob of cars with the same people, he wondered how his life flew by. It wasn't long ago when he was young, vibrant, fired up to do make a difference, change the world. But as the clock of his life ticked, he joined the rat race. The race that leads one to own things, and then ending up getting owned by the same things that they strived so hard for.
  
   It was pouring. The droplets of rain falling on his car distracted him as he was drowned in his thoughts. The thoughts of what could have been and what really was. He was not a failure in life. He had everything most people die dreaming to achieve. A wife that loved him, a job that he loved, a daughter who was his angel, a house big enough to accommodate their every need. But still, everyday when he wakes up, something still feels incomplete. He felt like a cloud. A cloud who couldn't fulfill his destiny. A cloud that vanished without raining. His train of thought was interrupted with the buzzing of his mobile in his pocket. His daughter was calling. 


   "Dad!!. Mom ain't moving", she said. Her voice not the usual angelic but filled with despair and desperation.
   "What happened, Rhea??", he asked frantically as the cacaphony of the cars behind him got low, eventually muting.
   The only voice he could hear now was the voice of his daughter. The voice that told of her mother falling from the stairs.
   As the cars ahead of him cleared, he quickly veered through traffic. Desperately trying to reach that U-turn, which only a few days back he had called Government's way of wasting taxpayer's money. Well, it wasn't a waste for him now, for that was the only way he could reach back to his wife who was slowing slipping into oblivion.
   His car teared the blanket of the fog as all he could see was his wife. Smiling, wearing a beautiful white dress, her eyes looking straight into his as if asking what happened to us? He had tears in his eyes. He knew he had something amazing and now he was going to lose it all. 
   It wasn't always like this. They first met at a college fest. And within months they became friends. The type of friends who just can't stop talking. They would often talk for hours at a stretch. She would tell him every little detail of her day and he would listen patiently  her sweet lovely voice. And somewhere in those long mushy talks, stupid little fights and silly cute pranks, they fell in love with each other. Their love for each other was so strong that they married each other against their parent's wishes. 
   It had been 18 years now. They still loved each other but somehow it ceased to be as obvious as it was before. They looked as if they had just surrendered themselves to routine. No more pillow talks, no more mushy musings, no more surprises. Who would have thought that the same couple who were often teased as "made for each other" would turn into "boring as hell" couple.
   As his car screeched to a halt in their drive away, he now knew what was missing in his life. he vowed to bring back the spark, the love that was evident before. As he rushed on the stairway, he saw her lying lifeless, the beige tiles that had turned red. A pallor on her face that indicated the stark reality of his being. He came close and shook her. But she didn't move a muscle. He gave up. The tears rolled down from his eyes, falling upon her body.


   "Honey!!!"


  He woke up. And for the first time in five years, his cell phone was to be the second thing  he would notice after waking up. He immediately cupped her face in his hands.


   "Baby, I love you", he whispered into her ears.
  
   "Honey, you okay??", she was startled yet happy.


   "Yeah, I am alive" said he as he kissed her.   

Déjà Vu - Part 2

   "Get up, Peter. It's 9'o clock." said her mother, in her usual soft and soothing voice.
   "Your father wants to talk to you".
   It was a dream and he was stunned. Tiny little drops of sweat were dancing around on his forehead. He was perplexed yet relaxed, for what seemed so real was infact a dream. His father had left for his work, so now he could have his breakfast on his bed in front of the television. An action movie and a toasted sandwich were more than enough for him to forget about his early morning nightmare. He had planned his first day of his Fall break with his friend, Jack and evening with his girlfriend, Kate. 
   After having breakfast and a quick shower, he was about to jump in his car when he noticed a small colony of honey-bees near the window sill. He was taken aback. It was the exact image he had seen in his dream. A honey-bee buzzing on the window glass trying to force a way in. At once, in order to affirm his doubts he stepped out of the car and checked the whole car for that patch of mud he had seen in the dream. It was nowhere to be seen. Just then, a phone call from his friend distracted him and he hurriedly drove away in his car.
   As he parked his car in the driveway of his friend, Jack's house, he rushed in while waving a hello to Jack's mother who was gardening. The two then planned to meet their friends at The Plaza. As Peter and Jack, proceeded towards Peter's car, the thought of his dream came back to haunt him. Near the rear-tyre, there was a patch of mud. An inverted cross, just like the one he had seen in his dream. The sign of Satan, he thought in his mind.
  " My mom must have accidentally did it. Let's go.", said Jack.
   As they drove away, Peter was still in his thoughts. He was perplexed yet curious. He was dreaded yet he had started looking for those other images. He couldn't find any.
   It was 2:30, afternoon, when his mother called, reminding him about the pest-control people he had to ferry home to exterminate those honey-bees. Now, driving to the Pest-Control agency, he was all alone with his thoughts. He wondered what all this could mean. A sign of something waiting to happen or just a silly co-incidence. In about an hour he was back home. Sitting in his room he was punching buttons on his joystick when he heard a car pulling up near his window. It was his father. 
   "Game Over. You are Dead". As the television screened displayed this message in a flashy red, he was once again shocked and stunned. His father, who had always been over-enthusiastic about wearing solids was dressed in a beige colored checkered waistcoat. Once again the horrors of the last night's nightmare came to haunt him. He sat perplexed on his bed until Kate, his girlfriend, called him.
    She had called him to re-plan their itinerary for the evening. They agreed to meet at the garden near the lake-side rather than at the cafe. At 6:00 PM in the evening, he was just about half a mile away from the garden when Kate called. She wanted Peter to come to the cafe instead. Just then, Peter realized that the garden was supposed to be full of orange-gold lillies. She had saved him. Now, he was a bit happy and relaxed. 
    As he was walking towards the cafe, he looked up at the clock tower to see the time. He was stunned. The clocked showed exact 6:30 PM. He tried to dismiss it as a mere coincidence and walked on. He was no longer thinking about his nightmare for now he was with the love of his life. They walked arms-in-arms, chatted lovingly and teased each other playfully. He no longer had his nightmare on his mind. 9:30 PM, he kissed Kate on her front porch and said good-bye to her and starting walking back home.
   He had just reached the clock tower when he saw a white truck speeding towards him and he frantically veered and saved himself from getting hurt. As he turned back, he saw something that shocked him. The truck had flower pots at the back. Orange-golden lillies going to the garden. He had his heart in his mouth. He clenched his fists and started telling himself that this all was just a co-incidence and nothing else.
   "watch out", someone said, from behind.




The next day, newspapers read:
A 19-year old crushed by a speeding car at the clock tower.




---------------------------END OF STORY--------------------------


   

Déjà Vu - Part 1

  He was cold now. He could see nothing but the darkness that had invaded his vision. Blood oozing out slowly from above his ears and coloring the white sandstone pavement red. He could hear voices inside his head. A sharp beep, almost irritating and the occasional murmurs of people who had gathered around him. As he lay near-lifeless on the pavement, he tried to recall his life. The life that hadn't been bad so far.He had visions, visions of the things and the people. Those things and the people who had a certain importance in his life. His white marble floored house, his red-bricked convent school, his mother making pancakes while wearing her favorite aprons, his father sitting in his customary grandeur in the wooden chair, his girlfriend smiling exactly the same smile which had floored him on that Annual Day, his sister who playing hide-and-seek with him. As he lay there on those red bricks of that white sandstone pavement, he waited to see that flash of light that people say you see just a moment before you die. But that light never came. He started having visions of the things that his sub-conscious mind had photographed today. 
   A honey-bee buzzing on the window glass, a patch of mud on his car, the beige checkered coat of his father, the clock on the tower showing 6:30 PM, the golden orange lillies that he saw in the garden near the lakeside.
   As he was slowly slipping into the darkness, he heard his name being called. Among the murmurs and the strange thumping noises that were overwhelming his senses, he tried to focus on that voice. It wasn't a strange one. The sheer softness and soothing nature of that voice suggested it came from someone close to him. He felt something on his hand, as if someone was shaking it, trying to revive him, trying to pull him back from the oblivion.




    
     

The Mirage Of Love - Part 6

  "You are a fuckin' stalker", she screamed as she jumped up from the chair and started to run towards the door. But her legs gave in and she fell into his arms.
  "I love you", he said while taking her to the chair and tying her legs and arms.
  "I don't love you, you filthy bastard. Get your filthy paws off of me. Just let me go.", said as she struggled to untie herself.
  Cupping her face with his hands. 
  "But I love you baby".
  Out of complete disgust and utter frustration, she spat on his face.
  He held his dagger close to her throat.
  " One more word against my love and i will slit your throat open. You get it?"
  Ignorant of his threat she again abused his love.
  "I hate you, you bastard."
  His anger was now on par with his love. The anger that had brewed inside him just needed a spark to explode. And a spark was something she was never short of.
  "I will put you into a prison, you motherfucker. I hate you. I won't even look at you let alone love you."
  As these words entered his ears, his hand that held the dagger drew back and thrust it into her chest. In and out that dagger went as he screamed for her approval. 
  "You love me, bitch. Say it."
  As the ire inside him cooled down, he realized what he had ruined. The blood dripping from the blade of his dagger was the testimony of the futility of his anger. He was broken. As he held her face with his blood smeared fingers he rued, hated his own self. The tears that were flowing from his eyes were the blood drops that had pumped his heart into a new life. And they were slowly dying now, so was the new life.
  In the same fit of rage that had him kill her, his hand once again moved, this time forward and ended up into his own heart. As he bled his last drops of blood, he could see her beautiful green hazel eyes and that captivating smile.
  "I love you too", said she.






  "A 19 year old girl killed by a stalker", read the morning news headlines.
  He was a lover that would now be forever remembered as a stalker.




------------------------- END OF STORY---------------------------       

The Mirage Of Love - Part 5

  "Short Fuse", this was the nickname his friends used to call him by. More than often, he had been into fights that weren't his or just weren't worth fighting. Calmness wasn't his cup of tea or maybe he was just too eager to release his frustrations and did so whenever he got a chance.
  Never before in his life, had a slap been this blissful. As her fingers touched his cheeks, he felt a pleasure he had never ever experienced before in his life. But this pleasure soon turned into the harsh reality of rejection. He was shoved, pushed and slapped by her. Her slap on his face echoed throughout the college. For the very first time in his life, his anger was subdued by the only emotion that came more furiously to him - his love for her. He was smiling. She was disgusted. Her friends soon started pushing him and one of her male friend slapped him right across the face. That was it. The cloud of his love had burst and the rain of anger came pouring down. It all ended this way. A girl in a pretty bad mood, a boy with a broken heart and a bleeding nose, and another boy with his face pretty much looking like a pumpkin covered in apple tart. That night in his house, his father vented every little frustration he had on his only son.
  He was furious now. Not on her, but on himself for failing to tell her how much he loved her. He just didn't want to accept that the same girl who gave her the sleepless nights and the euphoric day-dreams pretty much hated his existence in her vicinity. 
  It was the New Year Eve. She in her black party dress was looking gorgeous as ever. It was a club she regularly used to go to. That night, she drank heavily for she wanted to erase every of the year which had not been very kind on her. She felt sick. Her body quivering, her vision failing, her head throbbing from the blaring music. She spit out all that was inside her. The frustration, the grief, the alcohol. She thought of continuing the party but her trembling legs told her otherwise. She went to relax in her car and told her friends that she will be back. 
  He knew today was the day. The day where he could end all the bad feelings and start a new chapter of his love with her. And what would be more suitable than the last day of the not-so-kind year. He knew where she would be. 
  She came to her car struggling with her vision, her legs feeling weak, her whole body quivering as if she had puked her soul out. She sensed a figure approaching from behind. As she tried to scream, her mouth was covered shut with a cloth that shut her brain down. She collapsed to wake up in chains.....
     
  

The Mirage Of Love - Part 4

  It was a cold December morning. The dew from the night was melting and  slowly streaming down the leaves. The coldness of the time, that stops for none, could be seen on the sleepy tired faces of the students who were now frantically revising their topics fifteen minutes before their first exam of the semester. 
  He wasn't able to study much for this exam, or eat or sleep properly. Infatuation can prove to be very intoxicating, or as was in his case very disrupting too. But for the first time in his career as a student, he was not nervous on the exam day. Well, you need to be thinking about a thing in order to be nervous about it. But he was nervous, not about how he will clear that much-dreaded Mechanics paper but about that beautiful face that had mesmerized him, alluded his sleep and had controlled his senses for months now. 
   After much peeking into the alleys of her college, he finally saw her. Sitting on the green grass of the lawn with her group of friends, she was reading her notes. From behind a tree, he stared at her long and hard enough to make her notice him. He quickly hid behind the tree as their eyes met for the first of the many times to come. He continued noticing her, although more discreetly, from behind the branches of the tree.
He was so lost in her beauty that he missed the examination bell and it was only when she got up and went inside that he realized that his mechanics paper has started. 
  She had forgotten to take her notebook with her, which was now in his hands. The hands that slowly caressed the book as if he was touching her smooth, spotless skin. It was hard for him to part with that book.
 "Hey", he said nervously, with that book in his quivering right hand.
 "I have put something in the book for you to read, please do it when you are alone"
 It wasn't new for her to receive such sudden affections from boys. After all, she was beautiful and every thing beautiful has to pay the price of being so, someday. She knew how to handle these displays of love for it had been years she had been "loved" by boys.
  With the intention to break his day-dreams, she opened the book. After ruffling through few pages, she came upon a white sheet of paper, folded neatly along with the fresh rose petals. As she opened the sheet, he could see her eyes that resembled the beautiful calm green of the lake that he had once seen, turn into the red of ire. 
  She - in her bedroom, her locks caressing her back, hand placing the few strands that covered her face behind her ears.
  She - in her garden, dressed in pristine white, dancing wet in the water from sprinkler, hands raised above her head in pure joy, her waist swaying.
  She - in her college, with her friends, with her cats, and she at every place she loved to spend her time at.
  For him, these photos were his evidence of love for her.
  For her, they were the invasion of her privacy, of the life, which she held close to her heart, open to only few lucky mortals.
  Love is so potent a drug, that it can turn a glimmer of hope into a goblet of optimism. And he, well let's just say, had too many of those goblets.
  But as often happens, optimism concludes in the introduction of more pessimism. His evidences of "love", were now in pieces on the ground. She was aghast, disgusted and repulsed. 
  She started the maelstrom that would  eventually change the course of her life....

The Mirage Of Love - Part 3

    It was one of those rainy evenings. You know the ones during which you look to heavens and wonder if you are in the same city that burns at forty degrees during summer. There he was, his jeans rolled up above the ankles, shirt drenched, hopping over puddles of rainwater while covering his head with his bag. Just when he thought he had successfully crossed the puddle-field, his left leg felt wet. Yes, he was wrong. The last puddle did him in.
He was standing with his leg ankle-deep in muddy water. He was completely disgusted as if he had lost a battle,  his head down in shame. As he was picking up the pieces, he lifted his eyes and saw to his left in response to some giggles. There it was, the most beautiful view of his life, more mesmerizing than the lake he had once seen at his grandparent's place. 
  Beautiful hazel-green eyes, a smile that could even make statues come to life and freeze the living with awe. A few strands of wet hairs clung to her face and with a gentle motion of her hand she put them behind her ears. He was frozen. Still standing with his leg in that puddle, he felt his world had stopped for a moment. He had never seen something so beautiful, never had he been so awestruck. As she passed from his side, he took her smell with him in his heart. It was as if his heart had again started beating life into his soul which had been life-less for the past ten years. As she went out of his sight, he was no longer mad at that puddle for that puddle was now the cusp of his renewed life.
  For months to come, he used to regularly wait for her in front of her college gate. He would often miss his Manufacturing-301 class just to see get one glimpse of her, just to see her lovely pink lips opening up and giving way to a smile that could light up a million hearts. Whenever he could, he would try walking as close to her as possible. Not very close, fearing she might notice him, but close enough to admire her every gesture, every wink of the eye, every twirl of her hair.
  He was never a very outstanding student. He just managed to score enough to prevent his father's wrath and to quietly go around passing exams without getting much of the teacher's attention. It had been three months since that fateful day and he hadn't felt like she had ever noticed him. But they were about to meet. A meeting that none of them will ever forget...