They say there’s a first for everything. The first steps, the first smile, the first words, the first trip, the first drive, the first crush, the first love and the inevitable – the first heartache. This post is about the last two. They cannot exist simultaneously. The presence or absence of one is the difference between heaven and hell. Love as we know it might be similar to those fancy, melodramatic versions we see in movies or read about in books. But then, real life varies from what is in print or virtual. Once upon a time, I fell in love. Madly. Insanely. Purely. Blindly. Absolutely.

Things seemed more beautiful, more meaningful. There was a strange motivation to re-set my own standards, that have ordinarily been high. A melodious undertone to my voice. A spring in my step. A twinkle in my eye. Laughter and happiness that emanated from the soul. Ofcourse, nothing is ever perfect so there were dark times too. But today, since love as i knew it has changed drastically, I choose to dwell over only the good things. Hang on. Love has not really changed. But I am one of the unlucky ones singled out by destiny to not enjoy that love in perpetuity. The reasons are many. As are the causes. But now, all these words are of no meaning because whether or not I like it, the reality is stark, and well, real! It had never been a conventional or easy relationship, but I was prepared to face anything and everything because I knew what my soul wanted and the naive me thought that was reason enough for things to turn out the way I wanted them to. Now, as I type this, a bitter, demonic laugh cant help but escape my parched lips. There is this tornado building up inside me. It is threatening with every breath i take to tear out and devour me. And perhaps, I will let it. I think i can compare this feeling to….no wait…this feeling cannot possibly be compared to anything in the wide spectrum of emotions i have felt during my existence on this planet. I am not a habitual cryer, infact, my preferred way of dealing with situations is to maintain a stoic exterior, at times silent and contemplative, but usually my usual cheerful self so as to fool the person before me. And trust me, it always works. Why? 1. Because I am good at pretending everything is fine. 2. Barring a couple of people, the other person would not be bothered. We all have our own lives to deal with. You can show only so much of interest and concern. Pseudo, in most cases.

Now, I mourn. I feel as if someone very very close to me has been forcefully wrenched apart. Actually, that is precisely what has happened. Forced apart by Destiny/fate/God/mortals etc etc. Does it really matter, who the wrecker was? No. I know all i can do is perhaps blame Fate for it, because I NEED a scapegoat. Not to run away from reality, but just as a last ditch effort to maintain whatever little sanity is left in me. And trust me, it’s dangerously low. I have been going about my daily chores in my usual manner. Pseudo-happy, apparently normal blah blah blah simply because I don’t have any other goddamn choice. SO I gotta keep my head held up and lie to myself that things are just fine. A supposedly ‘minor’ hiccup in the long journey of life. But just as even a tiny pothole can send a car crashing, with fatal consequences, same is the case now. I am the car, and I am he casualty. Without any warning, a lump comes up in my throat countless times a day but I can’t let it go beyond that. It all dies in my throat itself because even if it was to be brought out,what difference would it make? Everything, every single thing, is a painful reminder of what was, and what could have been. The only realm where i still dare is in my imagination. It can’t harm anyone, and it cant be pulled out of me [hopefully. though I don’t even trust my own head anymore]. Memories bhi ajeeb hoti hain. They bring pain, but one still desperately holds on to them, for they are the last connection with the past. It’s the same for me. Memories, and that’s all.



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