An empty greet
A hello and a bye. That’s all we had. And between this
greet and goodbye, I met you, explored you, and let go of you. But in the midst
of all these moments, I mirrored myself.
- Hello -
It was the December of 2010, and the night’s chill had just started taking over the day. I sat opposite to a girl. She was just flesh and bones, but who knew she was more than that? We exchanged a glance, and in that one glimpse, I noticed how ordinary she was, and believe me, it wasn’t love at first sight. It was nothing. But it started there. That evening, amidst those maths textbooks. And the rest is a tale for some other time.
- Between greet and goodbye -
“I love you,” I said, on knees, my hands holding a rose.
She stood there, patronized, her heart pounding against her chest, and her eyes, stuck on me. And mechanically, yet absorbing the situation, she accepted the rose and mouthed ‘I love you, too.’ I stood up, having no clue what to do next.
She stood in front of me, confused, waiting, and slowly, she took a step forward, but stepped back. And stepped forward again — stepped back. Forward. Backward. Forward. And after debating her conscious for a good 30 seconds, which seemed like 30 dreading minutes, she embraced me, warmly at first, and then tightly. And God, it was enough to put me one, if I were broken back then.
- Goodbye -
It was 14th may, year 2014; this day, we came to a full stop. Once again, we were together, alone, but seated side by side on a bench of a metro station. And she asked: “Why don’t you try?”
I sat there, quiet.
“I can move past everything to have you beside me.”
Silence.
“Say something, please?”
The train halted in front of us, and we were supposed to board it. But neither of us did. And it moved past us, every human being inside that train, oblivious to the pain both of us felt.
“I guess I got my answer.”
“Then, tell me, too, so I can fathom what I have become,” I muttered.
“You are just wrong about yourself. Deluded.”
And boy, was she right? Not at all. She did not understand my silence, and my words would not make sense to her.
Instead I said: “You will make a fine story, one day. This moment—” Another train halted in front of us. We sat there, glued.
It roared away.
She hugged me, slowly at first, then held me harder. But, it did not heal the brokenness inside of me.
I broke free.
“This moment will make a good story. I will use it with beautiful words.”
“We can keep talking and try making things work,” she pursued me, again.
“Yes, we can keep talking,” I lied.
“Will you text me?”
“Yes.” I said, although I never did.
She smiled.
And I smiled sadly.
- Hello -
It was the December of 2010, and the night’s chill had just started taking over the day. I sat opposite to a girl. She was just flesh and bones, but who knew she was more than that? We exchanged a glance, and in that one glimpse, I noticed how ordinary she was, and believe me, it wasn’t love at first sight. It was nothing. But it started there. That evening, amidst those maths textbooks. And the rest is a tale for some other time.
- Between greet and goodbye -
“I love you,” I said, on knees, my hands holding a rose.
She stood there, patronized, her heart pounding against her chest, and her eyes, stuck on me. And mechanically, yet absorbing the situation, she accepted the rose and mouthed ‘I love you, too.’ I stood up, having no clue what to do next.
She stood in front of me, confused, waiting, and slowly, she took a step forward, but stepped back. And stepped forward again — stepped back. Forward. Backward. Forward. And after debating her conscious for a good 30 seconds, which seemed like 30 dreading minutes, she embraced me, warmly at first, and then tightly. And God, it was enough to put me one, if I were broken back then.
- Goodbye -
It was 14th may, year 2014; this day, we came to a full stop. Once again, we were together, alone, but seated side by side on a bench of a metro station. And she asked: “Why don’t you try?”
I sat there, quiet.
“I can move past everything to have you beside me.”
Silence.
“Say something, please?”
The train halted in front of us, and we were supposed to board it. But neither of us did. And it moved past us, every human being inside that train, oblivious to the pain both of us felt.
“I guess I got my answer.”
“Then, tell me, too, so I can fathom what I have become,” I muttered.
“You are just wrong about yourself. Deluded.”
And boy, was she right? Not at all. She did not understand my silence, and my words would not make sense to her.
Instead I said: “You will make a fine story, one day. This moment—” Another train halted in front of us. We sat there, glued.
It roared away.
She hugged me, slowly at first, then held me harder. But, it did not heal the brokenness inside of me.
I broke free.
“This moment will make a good story. I will use it with beautiful words.”
“We can keep talking and try making things work,” she pursued me, again.
“Yes, we can keep talking,” I lied.
“Will you text me?”
“Yes.” I said, although I never did.
She smiled.
And I smiled sadly.
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