The other end went dead.
"Hello" Nisha hushed into the mouthpiece.
There was nobody there. And the sudden silence after the telephone ring made the night even quieter. She put down the receiver and waited for something to happen. These moments came rare, when she had nothing to do. No assignments. No engagements. No phone calls. No messages. No chats. No chores. No exams. All she had to do is go to bed, wait for tomorrow.
Tomorrow. She is not excited. She doesn't care. She doesn't want tomorrow. She wants today. Tomorrow could change her life. "One day," she thinks, "one moment, one sentence and one person. And a life time. How can a life time depend on one talk? one instance? one click? how can it be decided tomorrow?"
The silence of the night makes her shiver more. She decides on a bar of chocoalate to treat her hunger. She stealthes to the door, creak opens it. She thinks, she heard her dad get disturbed, and shuts it close. But she's hungry. She opens it again. And shuts it on second thought. She opens and shuts close.
She opens the monitor of her computer. "The person seems to be offline...". He could be back in an hour or two. Will she wait? Why would she wait? The hunger, the chill, the offline - the wait - all at once get on her nerves. And she is sad.
You don't need a saree exactly but it would suit the occassion. She remembers her mom in the room that morning. What difference does it make? A saree, a kurta, a suit? It's the wrong person afterall. Moments flashback and lost in thought, she puts off the tubelight and slips under the quilt. She is alone - she realizes again, and she needs a tight hug. Warm. Soft. Tight. She needs a smile. A hand she can hold. What else?
All she knows is tomorrow will be different. She needs today. She also knows that in this wait, alone, her eyelids will get heavy, she is tired and she will fall asleep. And she would wake up tomorrow. She also knows that even if she does not fall asleep and forces herself up. Even if she is on the computer for a few more hours, even when the milk goes cold, and the rain stops, even though it seems endless, like everyday, tomorrow - is inevitable. The night will pass. And the sun will shine. Like always. Like everyday.
(Please continue if you like)
12 comments:
hmm...nice attempt at story writing...
i think you like visible comments..
any case..a verse in my mind... not a comment ..but just like that..
you see, i know i am crazy
but do you need to mock
you see, i find it hard to let go
but do you need to mock
you see, i am in a situation
but do you need to mock...
ha ha ha ....
put this somewhere in your story... in the incomplete III version may be...
love,
:))
32 A
Uncertainty is the spice in life...:-)
Unless you face a situation in which you are STUCK, like fevicol ad, you will never know how dumb you are...:-) and then, when you act to get out of it, at times, you will know how still more dumber you are...:-))
Life hasnt given us authority over change. Change is a given, it is inevitable. Though, life does give us a little authority over the direction of change, at times. Perhaps, in the design, too much authority isnt needed. Given too much authority, we act dumbly anyways, right?
well, do you understand this for the next version of the story?? I dont :> :)) :)) :))
and someone said - mockery is the best form of flattery! NOW well, do you understand this for the next version of the story?? I still dont :> :)) :)) :))
love,
aaa!
:D
:))
and zanie, the best thing you do in life is to allow anonymous comments on your blog. dont change this best thing you do, ok? there are some people who dont allow it on their blog... and its not so much fun to comment non-anonymously...
love,
aaa!
ouch..your story actually hurt a bit..but its ok... zanie.. lets see how you complete it.. :)) certain chapters dont end easy :P
hey aaa...
anonimity seems interesting.. however, will interesting just remain interesting... in case there arent any chances of getting addicted to anonimity i think i would welcome anonimity at home too.. he he.. you get what i mean.. drop in sometimes..
32 a
pls continue... u got all the space in the world... feel at 'ome
32A???
isn't that a measurement for something? hmm!
:D
Ayimwikkid!
... like everyday, tomorrow - is inevitable. The night will pass. And the sun will shine. Like always. Like everyday.
But when she wakes up, she realizes that it was still not tomorrow yet. She asks her mom, and her mom replies in ridicule, "why child?! It is today!". Grumpily, but with accepting the fact, she goes downstairs to her room, wondering when tomorrow will come, especially yesterday was already a day old. And when she is half the way pulling the flapdoor, it hits her with a full force.
Tomorrow never comes, yesterday will always be past, and it will always be today. This relativity is ubiquitous, she muses, proud to have found a new religion.
ah! we have a superb addition here. Milan - HELLO!
and milan -- :-)) ...too much! YOU are one marcomm material!
the foundation of this discovery of a new religion takes us to a metaphysical question -- what REALLY is temporalness? the philosophy folks, and i mean the serious philosophy folks, talk too much un-understandables about it.
But then, does this metaphysical understanding really matter? it does? really? when its women?? then? NOW?? :> :))
[well, please dont take this to the useless battle of sexes :>]
ok, coming to the point - how does this new religion help? to whom? and especially, how does it help when you are in a situation?? :D
love,
aaa!
hmm milan darling.... 32 a and measurement...it just has to be you to point out such things :))
well now that annie has visitors i think i should grace the occasion too.. ahem ahem and i am supposed to be the story writer...
he he he.. now now..let me give it a try...
The night will pass. And the sun will shine. Like always, like everyday.
She closes her eyes, and thinks of him. He whispers in her ears, " sleep sweets, sleep, let destiny sketch a beautiful tomorow, while you rest.'
She falls asleep.
Strong rays of sun come through the half open curtains. It hurts her eyes, she wakes up. Mumma has brought a nice saree for her. She drapes it on herself, like she is not she but someone else. She puts on slight makeup and looks at the mirror to make sure she looks all right.
You look lovely, mumma helps her. Hmm.. she smiles. Let destiny sketch the life ahead, she thinks.
She is sitting across the coffee table. She looks at this young man, hoping he somewhere looks like Akhilesh. If only he were Akhilesh, or if only Akhilesh was he! She sips her coffee and chatters. Forgetting that she is this saree clad young lady, she guffaws. Ah! only if Akhilesh were here now, they would all laugh together she thinks.
It's evening, Nisha returns home. She calls up Akhilesh, 'the hutch number you have dialled, is currently not available' says the female voice. Hmm... Akhilesh, where are you, she softly murmurs.
Mummy comes to her at dinner, how was the meeting. Did you like Rishabh? Of course, he is nice mumma, but you know I like Akhilesh.
Nisha will you grow up. Akhilesh is a dream... tell me if you have ever seen him, tell me if you have had coffee with him, tell me if we will come to you now and ask me for your hand in marriage.
Will you marry me, Nisha?, Rishabh calls her up.
For one moment, Nisha looks at herself, her mom, and the telephone.... Is this all a dream, or is she Nisha after all, or is this all a part of a book that she is reading that she has got so engrossed in..
hello hello..nisha do you hear me..
rishabh wakes her up from her reverie... No i wont marry you, she chuckles. Clear laughter... a happy tone... Mumma sees that Akhilesh has begun to fade. She thanks God and opens a Dairy milk (the traditional mithai..dont blame me for promoting dairy milk ;-)
******************
Now.... nisha will take a bite... or wont she...the question is women like choclate or not .... it is not about religion and philosophy...life boils down to simple gestures, simple words, and simple things...
annie i think i deserve to be featured..given my attempt to add to your story..
love,
Vid
if Nisha feels Akhilesh is a dream, he is. if Nisha feels Akhilesh is not a dream, he is not. if she is oscillating, she should just try the hutch number again :> :)) :)) :))
such a nice perspective of it not being about religion and philosophy. though, i hope all of us do notice, feel and understand the simple gestures, simple words, and simple things, when they happen to us. nothing can be more important.
for example, if Nisha doesnt NFU them, she might just call Atal, the one on mars....:> and then what Akhilesh, what someone else! :> :)) :))
this notice, feel and understand, at times, might take just too huge. at times, it takes going beyond stories, into reality. and it so happens, reality is elusively difficult to see!
and hey, if you have spare chocolates, do send them to me, ok? :))
love,
aaa!
who is atal now...
:))
and send choclates to me too..
anon2
akilesh? rishab?
don't u think there are too many anons already to introduce these 'named'anamikaz?
Happy new year yaar! btw people at alternative asked what i did on new yr's eve...thanx to u, i had something to say...:)
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