He was born in a land far away. They worked there. They decided to celebrate his first birthday in their home country. His relatives said the boy looks like him. Her relatives said the boy looks just like her. The couple smiled, looking at each other. Little did the relatives know, the boy was adopted.
‘Happy Birthday’, I wished, hoping I was doing the right thing.
Even if I wasn’t, I wasn’t corrected. Relaxing in the assumed right air, I waited wondering what to type on the hovering window of the messenger.
I didn’t want to make wishes that I knew would remain wishes. Not this time. Not ever again.
Choosing words carefully, I made an almost reverential wish. One about dreams, hopes, fears and finding love.
‘Thank you’, blinked on my screen.
‘What gift would you want?’. I typed ritualistically.
‘Get ready. Dinner and a drive. ‘
I took out the pen from my mouth. I had to purse up my lips and that isn’t best done with the lean finger of the pen held horizontally between clenched teeth.
‘Ok. I’ll wear the kurta and churi from the shop we liked.’ Favorite, I think. Girls in western wear was never a favorite.
‘Great. See you in an hour.’
I hear the vanishing sound when a person leaves.
Opening my cupboard, I looked for the black and blue kurta I had in mind. Inside it was placed a blue shawl. Taking it out carefully, I put it away for another day.
I do not know how many kilometers it is from here to there, but I do know that it cannot be covered in an hour.
I hope you had a good dinner. I hope she wore an elegant dress of your choice.
Happy birthday again.
I cannot explain how busy I am but this I had to post!!!!!
“I’ll only marry someone who can drive a car and very well at that.”, he said lazily stretching himself, “And someone who can cook exceptionally”
Unthinking words thrown carelessly.
She looked at the words scornfully. Conditional love never met with her approval.
She joined driving classes secretly the next day. Cooking classes that same afternoon.
“Why do you always…?” She asked raising her voice.
“Why don’t you ever…?” He shouted back.
“Do you always have to accuse me back?” She retorted sharply.
“Why can’t you give a straight answer?” He lowered his voice.
“What’s your question?” she asked tentatively.
“Will you marry me?” He blurted, surprising them both.
Happy people. Sad people.
Smart people. Dull people.
Fun people. Boring people.
Sweet people. Mean people.
Caring people. Selfish people.
Well read people. Blah people.
Honest people. Horrible people.
Loving people. Vicious people.
Trusting people. Paranoid people.
Million people. Billion kind of people… In the world. Heart settles on him, the one I can’t have.
Sunshine, flowers, butterflies and birds;
Darkness, candles, soft and special words;
From see to sense to touch to feel;
A sense of belonging, every lover’s dream.
Happiness in conversation, comfort in silence,
Solace in togetherness, a divine confluence;
Maybe a kiss or a hug or simply a fleeting look;
Each time, the emotion, privately understood.